


Turning Over a New Leaf, or How Fugaku Got His Groove Back

by moor



Series: Smut Monday [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humour, Smut Monday, hidden identity, how fugaku got his groove back, mysterious anbu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fugaku x Sakura. 'Smut Monday'. Widower Fugaku announced to his sons his intention to withdraw as clan head. He gives them a timeline to get moving on their search for a perfect mate before he realises they're aiming for the same woman. When Fugaku ends up taking their place on a mission with a mysterious ANBU kunoichi, he's enchanted... until she disappears. The search is on!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time to Move On

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to AijoInu and Nikolita for their invaluable help!
> 
> AN: This is pure crack. Nearly everyone is OOC. Partially inspired by strawberry9212's story, "Who", in a very distant way. As this story is part of my tumblr "Smut Monday" series (username beyondthemoor), it will be rated M. The M-rated version will be posted here to my Archive of Our Own profile, penname moor. The T/M-rated version will be posted to fanfiction.net, penname moor. 
> 
> Note that there is no set update schedule; the original story has been written but I want to expand on it a little bit. Originally it came out to about 60 pages. I expect it will top out around 100 or so.

**Turning over a new leaf**

Setting the incense and daffodils before the photo of his late wife, Fugaku bowed and let out a small sigh. Easier. Each year was a little easier than the last. At his sides his sons bowed to their mother's image on the family altar, their movements silent.

As they sat at their kitchen table later that day, Fugaku crossed his arms and regarded his sons with a furrowed brow. The lines etched deeper and deeper in the creases of Itachi's face; the bags beneath Sasuke's sleep-deprived eyes. He'd heard the rumours, of course. Of his eldest running himself into the ground to do his duty to Konoha; of his youngest's philandering. Both were above reproach, professionally. But what of their lives? Their, dare he suggest it, happiness? Was there anything they lived for outside of the clan? Both drowned themselves in responsibility and irresponsibility, respectively.

Yet… when they were on their own, or so they thought, he had observed a tension, or competitive animosity brewing between them. Something was causing friction between them. Mikoto would have known what it was in a minute. She would have known just what to say.

Fugaku, while their father, had let her take the reins when it came to their emotional development.

He was out of his element. He knew he should have taken a more active role in their lives, especially since Mikoto's passing. Been more of a father to his sons, instead of a clan leader.

Itachi lifted his cup of tea to his lips while Sasuke's eyes narrowed at his brother. There it was again, thought Fugaku.

It was time for him to step in.

"Itachi," he said, cracking open the oppressive silence. Mikoto had always strived for a quiet, peaceful home for them; but this quiet was anything but peaceful. "You will retire from active ANBU rotation and take your rightful place as clan head."

Sasuke reacted before his brother, his midnight eyes shooting to his father's.

The facade of Itachi's initial reaction appearing calmer—something Fugaku had long recognized as misdirection on Itachi's part; a calm surface masking darker, mysterious depths—Fugaku turned to his eldest next. "It is long past your due. I never… I never should have let us languish without a matriarch." When Itachi's eyes hinted at interest, Fugaku's suspicions grew. "You are to find a suitable woman and marry within six months."

Sasuke's fingers clawed into fists atop the table as he glared at his brother and father.

"Sasuke, you should also consider a union that would benefit the clan."

"What precipitates this urgency?" asked Itachi, voice steady.

"I had hoped you would be married and have your own heir by now. I've let it go far, far too long. The clan has no matriarch to consult for guidance," said Fugaku, frowning at the table. "There are times when a clan needs a woman's touch in matters." He looked up from the steaming pot of tea to his stress-ridden sons, his chest tightening. He should have recognized it years ago. His strong, capable, dangerous sons needed sheathes or their edges would dull; they would become worn out. They would slip, and risk far worse than mere injuries. "I should have made you head three years ago, Itachi. I admit, my priorities were… blinding me to certain facts."

The boys each knew what went unsaid; that Fugaku had been blind with grief.

"Itachi, you are twenty eight. You should be enjoying a family of your own. Sasuke, you, too, need support and comfort," Fugaku's shoulders slumped. "I prioritized clan affairs over family ones. I did you both a disservice."

Sasuke swallowed, eyes widening but keeping quiet for a time. It was rare for their father to speak so much or admit to any weakness or fault.

Itachi nodded and wet his lips. "Father, with Sasuke being younger, perhaps he could have a year to decide?"

Fugaku glanced between his sons, at their startled, yet subdued reactions. Was he wrong? Did they not yearn to wake with warm arms around them, their well-being the priority of their most precious person? The gift of life and legacy? It was not only a duty to the clan that they continue their line, but to themselves. They had a duty to the happiness they deserved.

Itachi had a point, however. Two weddings, particularly two weddings for the main clan, would be a great deal to coordinate simultaneously, on such a short timeline.

"You may have a year, Sasuke," Fugaku agreed.

Sasuke's eyes flickered to his brother's before Sasuke turned and bowed to his father. "Thank you."

Sasuke's shoulders had relaxed, Fugaku noted, but the wariness in his eyes remained.

And there was that tangible electricity snapping between Sasuke and Itachi.

"Do you have any recommendations?" asked Itachi, distracting Fugaku and drawing the man's attention back to his heir.

Fugaku crossed his arms and regarded his sons. "Things have changed within the Village since my time in your position," he said. "I will not require you to choose from someone within the clan."

Stunned, Sasuke and Itachi stilled, eyes wide as they stared at their father.

"But the Sharingan—" began Sasuke, but Fugaku was already shaking his head.

"Your teammate, the Hokage's apprentice; she has spoken to me on several occasions asking me to reconsider the clause in our marriage contracts about inter-family relations. She showed me why this was a dangerous road to continue following," admitted Fugaku, reluctantly. "Greater variety and stronger resilience, as she put it, would do more good for the Uchiha."

Sasuke was nearly vibrating with tension at his father's words.

"Previously, the clan head held sway over the final decision for the heir's choice of partner," said Itachi, tone careful as he set his cup on the table. "Is this still the case?"

Would Itachi choose someone he did not approve of? Was that why his son had not stepped forward sooner? Fugaku stifled an internal wince. Had he been his own biggest impediment to obtaining grandchildren? Er, he meant… Itachi and Sasuke obtaining happiness?

"I would appreciate some notification before any declarations are made," said Fugaku, holding Itachi's gaze. "Some parties may be… sensitive… when a decision is reached."

Sasuke looked between the pair of stoic men.

"There was a previous marriage contract," said Itachi, sensing Sasuke's question. "We cannot risk upsetting the previously released party by marrying beneath them. It would insult and cast shade upon the original contract."

"Who was the contract for?" asked Sasuke, curious.

"You," said Itachi,

Sasuke's head whipped around to stare at their father. "You nearly sold me?"

"Hardly," said Itachi, reaching for his cup once more. "He nearly sold your independence, freedom of choice and happiness." He sipped his tea.

The light was fading in the late afternoon sun, and Fugaku could feel the trouble brewing between his sons.

"Itachi, don't antagonize your brother," he sighed. "Sasuke, don't rise to your brother's baiting." Where was this immature behaviour coming from? Were his sons fighting over a bone like dogs?—

A light flickered briefly to life in Fugaku's mind.

"So," pursued Itachi, studying his teacup intently. "She is to be of fine standing—"

"Not necessarily from the Uchiha clan—" added Sasuke.

"A skilled kunoichi—" said Itachi.

"With impeccable connections, able to further the clan's objectives," concluded Sasuke.

His sons were staring at each other again, Fugaku noted, a bit uncertain. It was far too easy to imagine the lightning bolts crashing between their unfriendly looks.

"Yes," said the patriarch. He tapped his pointer finger once on his bicep, considering. "And even-tempered. We have enough conflict around here," he muttered, half under his breath.

His sons tensed.

"And a decent cook wouldn't hurt," added Fugaku, nodding to himself. He missed home cooked meals.

The room was silent once more as the men considered their options, their opponent, their prey.

"Six months," said Fugaku looking at Itachi. Itachi nodded. "One year," he said, looking at Sasuke.

Sasuke's expression turned thoughtful. "With the waving of certain traditions, is it possible for me to marry first?"

For the first time during the conversation, Itachi's brows furrowed and his eyes hardened.

"I hardly find that seemly," said Itachi, voice lower than it had been.

"But it would be possible?" Sasuke turned to look from their father to his elder brother, a smirk curling his lips. "One of us needs to really get a move on creating an heir."

"One should be more choosy in his bed partners to avoid bastard children, too. Overzealous efforts will result in sub-par results, after all. _Especially since it isn't making her jealous,_ " bit out Itachi under his breath.

The light in Fugaku's mind went from flickering to blazing. He opened his mouth to speak, however his sons had finished their tea and risen to their feet with predatory grace and lightning speed.

The sparks in their eyes were competitive… and not entirely gentlemanly, he was forced to admit.

"Thank you for your guidance, father," said Itachi, striding away before being dismissed.

Fugaku's jaw fell open. Never had Itachi behaved with such disrespect. He turned to Sasuke to remark on it, only to find his youngest son already on his feet.

"You'll find no fault with our choice," assured Sasuke, grabbing a scroll, ink block and brush before rushing from the room.

Bewildered and a bit concerned, Fugaku wondered if he had done the right thing setting the two most obstinate shinobi in all of Konoha loose in the Village… when they both looked like they were hunting the same prey.

* * *

It was to Sasuke's advantage that he had taken a page from Naruto's _Stalker Handbook Guide To Dating_ and memorized Sakura's hospital shift schedule. She always stuck it to her fridge, and he committed it to memory (thank you, doujutsu) every time he visited.

Which was how he knew she would be finishing her shift around seven that evening. With a quick stop off at the grocery store for some gum and a half dozen chocolate-flavoured energy bars, he raced to the hospital doors just in time to catch her… speaking to Itachi.

_That's okay,_ thought Sasuke. He had an 'in'.

"Hey, what're you doing in my neck of the Village?" asked Sakura as Sasuke approached. She smiled at him with tired eyes.

"I was in the neighbourhood," said Sasuke. "Naruto mentioned at training earlier he pulled something. Do you have any chakra left for a quick scan?"

"That idiot," sighed Sakura, shoulders sagging. "I knew he wasn't faking."

Sasuke passed her a chocolate bar as she rifled through her purse. "Thanks," she said, grateful. "I need it."

She always did. He had stashed the others in his weapons pouch.

But Itachi was not taking his interference lying down.

"Why did he not go to the hospital?" he asked, staring at Sasuke.

Sakura made a tsk'ing noise in her throat. "He's as bad as Kakashi-sensei. Avoids the hospital like he'll catch cooties or something. I hope you're smarter than the two of them."

"The Kyuubi cannot heal him?" asked Itachi, voice like silk. He watched his brother.

"Not when it's this delicate and annoying," made up Sasuke. "He'll let Naruto suffer for being an idiot. The Kyuubi's pretty passive aggressive."

Sakura looked up from the chocolate bar to frown at Sasuke. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It has to be life-threatening," added Sasuke. "For the Kyuubi to interfere. I mean."

Sakura shook her head. "Well, I'll head over and take a look. Sorry, Itachi. Another time?"

"Hnn," said Itachi, pinning his brother with a glare.

"I'll walk you over," offered Sasuke.

"Okay," she said, waving goodbye to Itachi. "See you tomorrow!'

"Ah," said Itachi.

Sasuke stepped closer to Sakura, relishing in her proximity. And ignoring the certainty that when he returned home that night his room would be booby-trapped to within an inch of his life.

**Sasuke: 1  
Itachi: 0**

He had this in the bag… And he could sleep at Naruto's, anyway.

Or, if he really played his cards right, Sakura's couch.

* * *

"You're not coming home with me until you've cleared an STI screen," said Sakura, pushing Sasuke away. She'd seen Naruto—nothing was wrong, she had no idea what Sasuke had been playing at earlier—and returned to her apartment.

"What are you talking about?"

Sakura's eyebrow arched so high it tickled her fringe.

She let out a low breath. "Uchiha. The only Villagers who haven't seen you naked are the genin. And possibly the civilians on the far side of town. Like, the _ugly_ far side of town."

"That's not true."

"Oh kami, you went through the really shitty side of town, too?" Sakura cringed.

"No!"

Sakura sighed as Sasuke realized he may have missed his mark with his _Make Her Wild with Jealousy_ strategy. Possibly also his _Impress her with Virulent Rumours of Your Prowess_ strategy. Definitely missed the mark when he combined those strategies together. Hn.

"I have standards," he said.

"You do remember I'm from the civilian side of town," said Sakura evenly. "Do you want to reconsider that answer?"

Sasuke paled.

She dropped her head in her hands. "Please tell me you wrapped it up and I'm not an auntie four hundred times over."

"It's not…" His voice trailed off. With a new partner every day, or two partners after a good bottle of saké… or three that one time, but that was on a mission so it didn't count… okay, he couldn't count them all _individually_ , but he could… approximate...

Sakura stared at him. Judging him.

He licked his lips. Time to redirect. "Still on for Team Seven night tomorrow?"

"Oh shoot, is it tomorrow?" Sakura grunted. "I need to go to the market. And my place is a mess. Can we trade? I'll take your night next time."

_Bingo_.

"How about we both make it at my place." Oh, he liked that wording! "We haven't had a home cooked meal at my place in forever. We can invite my dad, too. He'd like that," said Sasuke.

He held his breath.

To his surprise, Sakura's eyes softened. "He's been lonely? Oh, your poor dad. How's he doing with everything?"

"Yeah whatever he's great. So, I'll meet you at the market tomorrow at three thirty by your favourite fruit stand. I'll help you buy everything and carry it home." He nodded at Sakura. "Right?"

Shoulders slumping, Sakura nodded. "Okay. See you then," she said, entering her apartment and closing the door behind her when Sasuke took a step closer to her. The door whacked him on the nose and he swallowed a curse.

She opened it and poked her head out a second. "Sorry, did you need anything else?"

"Nope, see you tomorrow," he muttered, nodding to her and pinching the bridge of his nose to staunch the flow.

"Okay. Night."

The door clacked shut behind her leaving Sasuke bleeding on the welcome mat.

Score.

**Sasuke: 2**

**Itachi: 0**

… and wow, this was _really_ bleeding out…

He made his way to the hospital to have his nose re-set before returning home on autopilot, triumphant.

—Until he got to his room and remembered why he'd planned on staying at Naruto's.

With a muffled groan he sighed as he swung from his feet, suspended from the ceiling.

"Tch," he muttered, forming the hand signs for a—

"No katon jutsu in the house," said Fugaku from the hallway as he passed Sasuke's door.

Sasuke sighed and reached for his freshest kunai. As he sawed away at the rope—Itachi had used Sasuke's own rope—Sasuke planned how to get rid of his brother the following evening.

* * *

 

TBC

* * *

 


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner does not go as planned

**(The next day)**

"So, any news yet?" asked Fugaku the next morning at breakfast. (Toast)

Not that he meant to rush their decision; it just so happened that last night, after their little talk, he'd come across several bins of neatly folded baby clothes. The little onesies that Mikoto had dressed the boys in when they were newborns. Each with little uchiwa fans sewn into their shoulders or collars. He hadn't appreciated how happy those days had made him. Hearing baby laughter. Smelling baby talc. Falling asleep for a nap with a little one snoozing on his shoulder...

"Things are progressing at an acceptable rate," said Itachi, sipping his tea.

"And you, Sasuke?"

With deeper bags than usual under his bloodshot eyes, and his shoulder a bit off-kilter from taking a tumble the wrong way when the rope frayed faster than expected the night before, Sasuke's expression turned surly. "Yes. It's going well," he mumbled, swallowing a yawn.

"That's good," said Fugaku, opening the paper. "Let me know when you're ready to bring someone home for dinner." He shook out the pages of the paper and promptly ignored them in favour of the morning news: first stop, the obituaries. "Oh," he said after a moment. "Sasuke, could you reach the phonebook for me, please?"

"Hn," sighed Sasuke. From Fugaku's other side, Itachi produced a ruler and a pen.

"Thank you, boys," said Fugaku as he updated the Konoha directory.

* * *

"Training again?" asked Itachi as Shisui leaned against his doorway at ANBU HQ. As Captain, Itachi had a reserved office of his own. Perks for being a killer team lead.

Shisui flipped a deliciously sharpened fresh kunai around his fingers. "What, you have something better to do here? How far ahead are you with your planning?"

Seventeen months three weeks four days.

"I need to be available for emergencies," argued Itachi. Somewhat.

"Leave a note on your door. You're as bored as I am," said Shisui. "Come oooooon… We'll pass by the hospital on our way over…" He sing-songed.

"The hospital is on the other side of the Village."

Shisui shrugged. "Scenic route. Very scenic, hopefully," he said, winking at Itachi.

Itachi's ears burned.

Shisui's grin widened. "We should stop in and say 'Hi'," he teased.

"Enough," said Itachi, standing and locking his desk. He looked up and then glared at Shisui. "Get rid of that before I make you disappear. Permanently."

Shisui pouted, pocketing his, " _Out with my matchmaker - back later!"_ sign that he'd specially designed just for this trip.

"Let's go see if she's working," said Shisui as they left ANBU HQ.

"Hn," murmured Itachi. His pace was, perhaps, a bit more gravel-eating than usual.

* * *

Itachi was ignoring Shisui's babbling as they crossed the market district—he had hoped to find some flowers for Sakura, but nothing looked quite right—when he feels Shisui trip into him and bump his arm.

Which, had it been Sasuke's friend Naruto, he would have easily ignored.

But Shisui didn't trip.

Ever.

Instead of turning to avoid Shisui, Itachi's eyes narrowed and looked in the direction Shisui was turning him away from.

And immediately spotted Sakura's petal-coloured hair pulled up in a loose, comfortable ponytail. While she shopped with his younger brother, looking over produce. They held several large, overburdened bags between them, and he heard Sakura chastising Sasuke over the din of the crowds.

"Sasuke, your dad loves fish! And haddock is on special. Of course we need to get green onions and lemons! It'll be a nice light flavour, to go with the miso soup and satay green beans. I promise he'll like it. Oooh, that's a nice bunch of asparagus, grab that, too…"

"Uh, Itachi, you might wanna… turn that off…" hedged Shisui, inching closer to his cousin.

"Hn?"

Shisui tapped the side of his face meaningfully and Itachi realized his Sharingan had activated of its own accord. With a shift of his chakra he released the pressure and felt his eyes fade back to black.

Shisui let out a small breath.

"So, looks like we can skip the hospital. Let's go train!"

"Hn," said Itachi, turning away from the pair shopping in front of him.

"You look like you have some aggression to work out. Let's focus on that," said Shisui.

Yes, that sounded like a good idea to Itachi, too.

* * *

The light faded around the training grounds, and the pair of shinobi raced and slashed at each other, causing less damage to the terrain than some lesser shinobi, however attacking each other all the more viciously for it.

"Shisui," said Itachi as the sun slipped below the horizon.

"Ah!" huffed Shisui. Itachi was putting him through his paces that day.

"You caught me at an unfortunate time this afternoon."

"How so?" Shisui panted as Itachi disappeared from sight. He flickered around the training field, Sharingan whirling.

"It was unfortunate that we ran across Sasuke and Sakura in the market."

"Ah, yeah. You win some you lose some," said Shisui, looking around. "Phew! Ready for a drink? I brought drinks."

"Hn." Itachi attacked his cousin suddenly, forcing Shisui on the defensive with his fancy kunai.

Itachi's eyes narrowed.

"Those kunai are very high quality."

"Yeah. They were a gift," panted Shisui.

"From who?"

"Huh?"

Itachi charged Shisui and pushed him back, back, back until he tripped and landed hard on the packed earth, Itachi's kodachi at his throat.

"Who gave you the new kunai, Shisui?"

"Uhhhhh…."

"Shisui…"

The sharp edge of Itachi's blade kissed Shisui's throat, and Itachi's eyes hardened.

"He told me to keep you busy! He said he was getting something special ready for you and Sakura!"

Itachi blinked.

"He is," said Itachi before he disappeared in a burst of crow feathers. Sasuke was in for a world of hurt when Itachi got him alone...

Meanwhile, exhausted and panting, Shisui let his head fall back on the dirt. That… had been more than he'd expected.

Limbs trembling from fatigue and adrenaline—he refused to admit Itachi had unsettled him—Shisui looked at his new set of kunai.

"Worth it," he decided, flopping down again. And once his heart calmed enough to settle back inside his ribcage again, he'd catch his breath and be off home.

He lifted the kunai one last time, contemplating it.

...Then again, there were going to be some serious fireworks at the main house tonight...

* * *

Lifting his head from his clan intel report in his study, Fugaku sniffed. Cooking smells. Pleasant cooking smells.

Where were they coming from?

His kitchen, he realized a moment later, setting aside his work.

Who was cooking such tempting delicacies in their kitchen? Certainly he and the boys weren't slouches, but since Mikoto's passing none of them had taken the initiative to fill the kitchen with her warmth and care. Sustenance had been the name of their cooking game for half a decade now.

So it was with some eagerness that Fugaku entered his kitchen… to find his sons' teammate, Sakura, easily manning their six burner stove, a pot on each lit gas burner. Onions and vegetables, pork and tofu frying in a light sauce, asparagus steaming and—his eyes lit up—was that broiled haddock? On the counter he spied their ancient rice cooker steaming and tinkering away, obviously toiling under a full load of rice. Several side dishes had been prepared and set on the table already, he noted, his eyes widening, and he felt warmth pressing and expanding in his chest for the first time since…

He cleared the blockage in his throat, approaching Sakura from the side.

"It seems you have everything well in hand," he remarked, peeking over her shoulder.

"No pinching," said Sakura, smirking at him and smacking his hand with a wooden spoon as he reached for a bite of mini-corn on the cob straight from the stir-fry pan.

He gave her a mock wounded look. "Anything I can help with?" he asked, amazed. How had she made all this without him any the wiser?

"Sasuke helped me with the side-dishes earlier. Naruto and Kakashi should be here any minute —And that's probably them," she said as she heard the front door opening. "Sasuke nipped out to grab a bit more rice seasoning. Would you mind?"

"Of course," he said, automatically leaning in and kissing her temple before turning to the door.

He sensed Sakura stiffen behind him and immediately realized what he'd done. His neck was in flames as he cleared his throat.

"I... apol… Force of habit," he said, unable to face her; his shoulders were ramrod straight.

"It's nice to be appreciated," said Sakura a half-beat later, teasing in her voice. "No more freebies, though. You need to help with dishes if you want sugar! Er, that is… Oh geez… I'm…sorry."

They stewed in awkward sauce a moment in the steaming kitchen before Fugaku shook his head and let a small chuckle bubble up in his throat.

"Hopefully Naruto brought dessert," he said smoothly as he met the newest guests at the door.

"Yeah," breathed Sakura, mortified. "Now would be a good time for the ground to swallow me up," she muttered under her breath; but Fugaku caught it.

Ah, he could admit he'd missed some of the silliness that came with a full house. Well, could admit to himself. No one else ranked high enough to be graced with such knowledge.

"... you said to bring something to share!"

"Like a dessert, Naruto." Fugaku heard Hatake Kakashi sigh. "Why did you bring a head of broccoli?"

"Because she told me not to bring ramen! This is healthy!"

"Hatake. Naruto," greeted Fugaku.

Clad in his regular jounin gear, Kakashi nodded back and lifted a frosted glass decanter of saké. "Is there a pan free for a water bath?"

A little disturbed at the cutesy anime characters dancing in the blowing sakura blossoms depicted on the bottle label, Fugaku pointed to the kitchen. "Sakura will see to it."

"Thank you," smiled Kakashi, joining Sakura in the kitchen. "My cutest student is wearing her cute apron again tonight!" Fugaku heard him exclaim.

Sakura's retort made Fugaku swallow a choke. "Eff off and die, Kaka-sensei. And where did you find that? Did you draw that label yourself?"

"Sakura, I'm hurt…"

"You did. I can see the marker smudging."

A bit unsettled, Fugaku turned back to Naruto who had finally slipped off his nin sandals.

Realizing he was alone, Naruto looked at Fugaku in unease. "Uh…"

Fugaku stared the public nuisance down.

"Here!" Naruto thrust up the giant head of broccoli in greeting, and bowed. "Thank you for hosting our Team Night!"

Resigned to being at least a non-murderous host for the night, Fugaku reached out and accepted the hefty vegetable.

"Please make… yourself useful to Sakura," corrected Fugaku.

"Hehe, all right!"

Naruto charged past, joining Sakura and Kakashi and making appreciative noises over all her hard work.

Fugaku shook his head and was closing the front door when he felt a simmering killing intent blanket the front porch.

"Good evening," said Itachi, slipping through and setting his nin sandals in the shoe cubby.

Fugaku looked his agitated son over; there was something cross in Itachi's sharp features, and Fugaku nodded. "Wash up. Dinner will be soon. Sakura put in great effort to prepare everything, don't be late," he said, defending his favourite member of Sasuke's team, outside Sasuke himself.

Itachi nodded and disappeared down the hall to the bathroom. A moment later Fugaku heard the shower, and then Sasuke was rushing through with a shopping bag of assorted rice seasonings and everyone was gathering around the table. The tightness in his chest twisted when he saw that Sakura and Sasuke had inserted the leaf in the middle to expand it so everyone would fit around.

_A very full house,_ Fugaku thought to himself, taking his regular seat. To his pleasant surprise, Sakura had set a glass of wine by his plate. He looked up at her bustling about and carrying dishes here there and everywhere, and felt his expression soften as she badgered Naruto and bossed Sasuke and harangued Kakashi into helping.

_No wonder their team does so well,_ he mused.

"Are we waiting for anyone else?" asked Sakura as she set plates down on the table; Sasuke passed out glasses.

"Itachi will be down in a moment," said Fugaku.

Sasuke's eyes widened as he paled. Fugaku watched his son with a raised brow.

"Should we wait?" asked Sakura, checking the number of seats. They would be fine.

"No need," said Itachi, sweeping in the room with his exposed chest glistening and rivulets of water dripping down from his hair to his collarbone. "Good evening, brother, father." His dark eyes softened and shone as he met Sakura's gaze. "Sakura."

Sakura could only stare, Fugaku noted, as the dish in her hand began to slide to the side...

"Hey Itachi!"

"Hn."

"Yo."

"Kakashi."

"Uh, Sakura, you okay?" asked Naruto as Sakura just stood there, gazing at Itachi's perfectly formed pectoral muscles. Which were wet. And glistening.

"Sakura?" asked Kakashi, looking up from his saury; Sakura always made it specially for him on Team Night. Beneath his skewed hitai-ate his brow furrowed. "Sakura," he said, in his Commanding Sensei voice.

Startled, Sakura jumped a bit and shook her head, swallowing. "Yes?"

Kakashi gave her an eye-crease grin. "Could you please pass the green beans?"

"Oh. Yes, of abs. Course! I meant, of course," said Sakura, blushing crimson.

Fugaku glanced up at Itachi. His eldest's eyes were crinkled in knowing amusement, though his smirk had softened. Fugaku's shoulders sagged understanding now what his son was playing at.

"Do you need to catch up on your laundry?" he asked Itachi, redirecting his son's attention from poor Sakura.

"Hn."

Was Itachi… purring?

With long years of practice, Fugaku ignored Itachi's antics. "Sit and eat. Sakura went to a great deal of trouble. Thank you, Sakura. It has been a long time since we've enjoyed a family meal like this." He nodded to her, and was rewarded by a warm smile.

"You're very welcome, sir," she said. "And Sasuke helped."

"Really? Well done, Sasuke."

"Which parts did you do?" asked Naruto. "Oh, I brought broccoli!"

"I made the side dishes," said Sasuke. He kept one eye on Itachi, Fugaku noticed. Not that father blamed son; this had become more than a meal to them, obviously. He was expecting treachery. As he should. Fugaku didn't doubt that Sasuke had tried to sabotage Itachi into missing the meal, earlier. Itachi wasn't above retaliation, either.

The dinner was now a farce of a mating ritual, masquerading as a front for an epic scale payback. Fugaku wanted to sigh.

This haddock was fantastic, though.

"This saury is tasty, Sakura. Thank you very much," said Kakashi, smiling at Sakura. She winked at Kakashi, surprising Fugaku. There was something familial in the gesture, he thought. Another way of her showing Kakashi that she had his back. He remembered with a pang how Mikoto used to wink at him like that, when the boys were young.

Fugaku surveyed the rest of the table as he ate, noting how each member reacted to Sakura; and was less and less surprised to find each one turned towards her, in one way or another. Naruto was the most obvious, talking her ear off most of the evening when he wasn't arguing with Sasuke. Sasuke himself was focused intently on Sakura when he wasn't sneaking glances at Itachi. Itachi kept up a polite conversation with Sakura and Kakashi, who, himself, was half-turned towards Sakura through the evening meal.

It was only when Sakura announced that dessert would be served soon that Fugaku realized he'd spent most of the evening facing her, too.

It was an uncomfortable feeling. Normally during meals with his sons they kept conversation to a minimum, clan affairs or local news. Personal business was private. Prior to this, though, his meals had been spent listening to Mikoto chatter on with his children and he'd always listened…

Listening, he realized. He was listening again. Passively participating. And while there were more faces around the table, and different voices, he recognized how comfortable he felt there among them. This group of people who'd been part of his extended family, of a sort, for nearly a generation. It was strange how natural it was to share his home with them. He'd expected to feel more alienated, more put out by their noise and camaraderie in his stable routine.

Instead, he fought the urge to interject and participate. Especially with Sakura keeping everyone on their toes. How was it she was unmarried, at her age? She was the same age as Sasuke, he remembered. Possibly a few months older, if he remembered Mikoto's words correctly. No wonder the boys were so attached to her.

_Fighting over her,_ he reminded himself with an internal sigh. _Ah yes._

He heard a knock on the door and then the door opening… and closed his eyes a moment when he heard who had arrived.

Things were about to become… louder.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you were having a big dinner! Why wasn't I invited?" pouted Shisui, wedging up a seat between Sakura and Sakura, directly across from Itachi. He waggled his eyebrows and Fugaku prayed for patience. "Plate?"

Sighing and shaking her head, Sakura stood. "I'll grab one."

Sasuke leapt up. "No, it's okay. I'll get it."

Fugaku nearly huffed aloud when Itachi, already on his feet, smoothly swept to the kitchen. "I'll take care of it."

"Then I'll get a glass for our latest guest," said Sasuke, eyes narrowing at his brother.

"Don't forget cutlery," said Itachi, voice like silk.

"I won't," bit out Sasuke.

_Oh no_ , thought Fugaku. _It begins._

"Naruto, Kakashi, could you please help me collect the dishes from the table? We can start washing those while Shisui catches up," said Sakura, voice tenser than before.

"Sasuke, run the hot water," said Itachi. He gave the plate to his cousin with a warning look. Shisui grinned at him.

"I will. Once I get Shisui his cutlery," snapped Sasuke, glaring at Itachi. "Here," he shoved the cutlery and glass at Shisui. "Help yourself to juice."

"We have wine," said Sakura, turning around from the counter where she was slicing pie. "Who would like pie?"

"Me!" said Naruto, holding out his hands for bowls. "Uh, you sir?" he asked, looking at Fugaku.

Fugaku shook his head. "No, thank you. Tea will be plenty for me."

"Oh," Sakura's expression fell. "I remember Mikoto mentioning before how much you enjoyed pavlova… I made one this morning… Is it too much?"

Fugaku's eyes widened. Pavlova? He hadn't had pavlova in…

"It would be remiss of me not to enjoy such a special treat," he said, the usual lines around his eyes and mouth softening. "That is very considerate of you, Sakura. Thank you very much."

She sent him a wink, taking him aback. _I got your back, too,_ it said.

Oh, she was a treasure, he thought, smiling to himself as she set a loaded plateful in front of him with passion fruit and sliced kiwi on the side. Who wouldn't want such a delight in their—

"It's okay, you don't need to carry that many bowls over, Sasuke," warned Sakura, turning back to the counter to see her teammate balancing a dozen bowls on his arms and a surly expression on his.

"I'm fine," he said. "Who wants pie?"

"Uh, I already passed out the pie," said Naruto.

"I cut up pie, who wants pie?" repeated Sasuke, looking around the room. "Kakashi?"

Kakashi held up his plate of pavlova, shaking his head. "Perhaps next time."

"Saké?" asked Itachi, holding aloft the now warmed carafe of Kakashi's sake. He had wrapped it deftly with a fancy napkin… hiding the illustrated label.

"Please," said Shisui, still eating his first course.

"You don't count," said Itachi.

"Taich—Itachi?" said Sakura, catching herself. _Right. Like they didn't all know Sakura subbed in on Itachi and Shisui's ANBU ops,_ thought Fugaku. A small headache niggled in the back of his mind, and he brushed it aside. They were having a lovely evening. There was nothing to worry about. It would be finishing soon. Now, to enjoy this beautiful pavlo—

"Sakura, pie?" asked Sasuke.

"I'm sure Sakura would prefer saké," insisted Itachi.

"Pie." Sasuke turned to glare at his brother.

"Saké," repeated Itachi, taking a step closer to Sakura at the counter.

"Uh," Sakura looked between them, then at Naruto and Kakashi. "I'm—"

"I'll take pie and saké!" called Shisui from the table, mouth full, holding up his glass.

"Shut up, failure," snapped Sasuke at Shisui before he snarled at Itachi. "Or we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"There is no discussion," said Itachi, eyes narrowing on his younger brother.

_Boys_ , sighed Fugaku to himself. _Where was Mikoto to… Oh. Yes._ Time to parent.

Well, it wasn't like they were children. They were adults. They would listen to reason.

This should be easy.

Now, to diffuse the situation with aplomb and authority:

"Stop fighting. You are embarrassing yourselves," he said.

_There. That should do it._ Mission accomplished. He lifted a forkful of the tempting pavlova to his mouth, its succulent golden passion fruit bursting with freshness—

"She can decide for herself!"

Sasuke's outburst jarred Fugaku from his bite. A vein in his head throbbed.

"I'm sure she would if you would give her a chance to speak."

And now Itachi was being passive aggressive. Fugaku closed his eyes, reaching for calm.

"Uh, guys," tried Naruto, lifting a tentative hand. "I think we're pretty good for dessert."

"Sakura, would you like to join us?" asked Kakashi, turning in his seat. "You have been working all day, please come relax."

"Yes," said Fugaku, straightening and glaring at his sons. "Sakura," he said, gentling his voice. "Please. You did a great deal of work. I am sorry my sons are shaming themselves so adamantly," he grit out, glaring at them once more for good measure. "Mikoto raised them far better."

The room went silent at his last words.

"I apologize for my overbearing manner," said Itachi after a moment. He turned and set the saké on the table before pulling Sakura's chair out for her. "Father is correct. Please relax. We will take care of the rest."

Lips pressed together, Sakura nodded and sat, fidgeting with her plate.

Features tense, Sasuke was left standing in the middle of the room with his arms full of pie.

"Set them down, Sasuke," said Fugaku with a shake of his head. Every bit of his tone confirmed how disappointed he was.

With a glare at his father Sasuke ditched the pie pieces on the counter with a jarring crash before storming from the room. Naruto was following on Sasuke's heels, blond brows drawn together, before Sasuke had cleared the doorway.

Fugaku gathered his composure around him and continued eating. Finally.

Sakura sighed, setting her napkin beside her plate. "I've eaten way too much," she said after several minutes had passed. She had barely touched her dessert. "I'll start on the dishes." She pushed her chair back only to feel it hit a speedbump and stop. She looked to the side only to meet Kakashi's eye crease smile.

"Tea?"

Her shoulders relaxing, she nodded. "Please," she answered, grateful.

Kakashi looked even more pleased.

Then he turned to Itachi and Shisui. "Go make Sakura some tea."

Fugaku ignored the narrow-eyed look Itachi gave Kakashi at that presumption, instead giving Shisui a warning glare. Knowing what was good for himself, Shisui hopped to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

With an internal sigh Fugaku shook his head and finished his dessert. He would speak to his boys after supper.

* * *

As Sakura and Kakashi packed up Sakura's things in the kitchen and Shisui washed the dishes with a clone to dry them, Fugaku and Itachi sought out Sasuke and found him in the garden with Naruto. It only took a look to get Naruto to skitter to the house to help with the clean-up and Fugaku was left with his fuming, sabotaging sons in the darkness.

"I don't need to tell you how poorly your behaviour reflected on the clan tonight," he began, looking between them. His hands folded inside his sleeves and his arms crossed, Fugaku's voice was quiet and firm. "That was a disgrace."

Itachi remained impassive, however Fugaku noted Sasuke flinch.

"You cannot both chase after the same woman!" He said, voice rising. "Are you trying to make us as laughingstock?"

Sasuke looked away but Itachi's eyes narrowed as he stood taller and addressed his father. "I think you should look at the big picture, father. She is the best candidate for both of us."

"Yet she didn't show any romantic or possessive interest in either of you through the entire meal. Keep searching. At least one of you will have to, anyway. The other will need to buckle down and focus on wooing her, and that looks to be an uphill battle for both of you." Fugaku's frown sharpened, deepening the stress lines down his face. "Your mother would be ashamed of you both."

"Don't bring her up," growled Sasuke, fists at his sides. "She would have never embarrassed us at the table with the intention of cutting us down the way you did."

"What?" snapped Fugaku.

"Sasuke," warned Itachi, turning to his brother. To Fugaku's surprise, Itachi's eyes had softened as he looked at his brother. "That's enough," he said, softer.

"Tch," spat Sasuke. And then he proceeded to turn away from Fugaku and Itachi. "I should just emancipate myself. She's too good for this clan, anyway," he muttered.

"Sasuke!" roared Fugaku, taking a step towards his youngest son. "You dare insult your clan?"

"This is exactly why we need her," said Itachi, voice calm and firm. "We do need someone with her intelligence and self-determination to help guide us. She is respected through Konoha and the shinobi nations for not only her diplomatic experience, but her many abilities and compassion. Her patients, her team, her co-workers, they all benefit from her gifts," said Itachi. He relaxed as Sasuke looked at him with understanding. Itachi gave him a small smile. "Which is why I intend to envelope her in the fold of the Uchiha. She will make a wonderful matriarch, and someday, mother for my children. The elders have already begun considering my petition."

Sasuke's eyes widened before sharpening to knife edges on his brother. "She will never accept you," he said, voice shaking with anger.

Fugaku watched Itachi's features set with confidence as he arched a silky brow at his furious younger brother. "And she'll never see past your indiscretions," he replied smoothly.

"Boys," warned Fugaku, trying to regain control of the conversation. "You're to be praised for setting such splendid expectations for a potential mate; but this matter is not going to be resolved tonight. Itachi, with your deadline looming nearer, I think it best that you pursue Sakura—"

"What!" Sasuke cried, anger and desperation flaring in his eyes as they bled crimson. "Why does she get to be the mother of Itachi's children? I'm her team mate! Why couldn't she be the mother to mine?" His Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled with his emotions. "She's one of my best friends!"

Fugaku shook his head. It was obvious even to him that Sakura had been keeping Sasuke at a brotherly distance, and possibly further, since he started his campaign for kunoichi (and civilian, he'd recently learned with disdain) sexual domination. While he had no doubt Sakura would have excused a history of proper relationships, Fugaku knew that Sakura, with her ties to the Hokage's office, would not be able to tie herself to someone whose reputation was that tarnished with such a track record of indiscretions and lack of self-respect; certainly she wouldn't open herself up to mothering a philanderer's children.

"Sasuke, stop embarrassing yourself. And the clan," said Fugaku. He turned away. "I trust this matter is resolved. Itachi, you are permitted to proceed. Sasuke, I recommend you look… outside the Village," he said, shaking his head again. "And I extend your deadline to three years. Wait at least a year before you begin searching, so your shameful behaviour has a chance to be forgotten by the populace."

Shoulders straighter, Itachi nodded, serene. "Of course, father."

Shaking and mute, his complexion white as snow, Sasuke stared after their father.

"Hn," said Fugaku. "And I expect both of you to be on best behaviour going forward."

"Yes, father," said Itachi.

Fugaku returned indoors. Hopefully there was still some pavlova left.

The door had barely shut behind him when a war broke out behind him in the garden.

* * *

 

TBC

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hope you enjoy this very OOC and very fun trundle down FugaSaku lane. Things pick up in the relationship direction next chapter!


	3. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man with a mission

**Chapter 3**

There were days, Tsunade thought, that she thought she was ready to retire from sheer boredom and dump the day-to-day village runnings in Naruto's lap.

Today was not one of those days.

It was rare that she had to summon the head of the Uchiha clan to her office, however today had _Special_ written all over it in neatly stenciled exploding tags.

"So your sons—my most decorated, most capable ANBU captain, along with his most reliable subordinate—are both out of commission?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade drummed a finger on her desk.

"At the same time?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"From gravely inflicted wounds on their persons? Both of them. Someone managed to get that close to both of them, on the same night, and nearly crippled them both?"

Fugaku's brow wrinkled. "Yes, Hokage-sama," he said, voice lower.

Tsunade's brow arched.

"And this was while they were at home, off duty. Within the confines of the Uchiha District."

"... yes, Hokage-sama."

Where was her saké? If it wasn't for these particular circumstances, she'd feel almost celebratory. It wasn't every day a clan head had to be summoned to apologize on behalf of his bonehead sons. Especially when those boneheads were hot blooded, fully grown shinobi.

She watched Fugaku writhe, relishing it.

"So, now that I am short one ANBU captain, and one ridiculously talented jounin, what do you suggest I do, Fugaku? They were due to leave on a joint mission tomorrow."

Fugaku closed his eyes and breathed through his nose to maintain his calm.

"I am willing to volunteer my services to replace the jounin for the mission. No payment necessary," he said, with a bow of his head. "It is the least I can do to apologize for the irresponsibility of my sons."

Tsunade's manicured nails tapped her desk again as she swiveled in her chair to the side, standing.

"Do you have any objection to working with an ANBU from outside the Uchiha clan?" she asked, all humour removed. She needed answers.

"Considering the nature of the circumstances, absolutely not, Hokage-sama. I am yours to command," he said, head bowed.

Tsunade looked down her nose at the back of the man's exposed neck.

_Damn straight you are,_ she thought to herself with a wry twist to her lips. _And if you'd kept your boys in line like Mikoto used to, we wouldn't be in this situation. Now I have to call in a favour with someone in ANBU who is willing to deal with you and who won't soil themselves from the political shitstorm that could be raised from ordering around a forty-some-odd year old clan head._

_Correction: a forty-some-odd year old clan head with a superiority complex._

Taking a deep breath, Tsunade gestured for Fugaku to straighten.

"Prepare your things, Fugaku. You leave first thing in the morning. Your ANBU team lead will brief you at the gates at oh-five-hundred hours. Dismissed."

As the door closed behind Uchiha Fugaku, Tsunade shook her head and stared out the window of the Tower. Luckily she did know one ANBU she could rely on for this task, though it may take a bit of wheel-greasing to get things moving. The individual she had in mind was the one who'd asked her to send away the pair of Uchiha brothers after some not-so-subtle interference in her private life recently. They were wreaking havoc and it had to stop.

(" _I'm not an Uchiha incubator! Get them off my back before I snap their spines!"—_ had been Sakura's vociferous words, to be exact.)

And so Tsunade had gone to the trouble of finding a nice diplomatic mission for them… only for them to beat the everloving daylights out of each other the day before.

Well, it could be worse, Tsunade decided. She reached into the curtains and pulled out a mickey of saké from a hidden pocket. She almost laughed. It wasn't like Fugaku would be seducing her apprentice!

Tsunade chuckled under her breath before downing the mickey.

As if that could ever happen.

* * *

**(The next day, leaping through the forest outside Konoha)**

"No."

Fugaku looked up at the young ANBU commander, his eyes narrowing.

"Excuse me," he said, his tone the direct opposite.

"We will not be stopping until we have cleared Fire's borders. We were delayed in our departure and we need to make up time," said the ANBU.

Chest and legs burning, Fugaku withheld his sneer. It was hardly his fault he'd been summoned by the elders until late into the night the previous evening, to give a detailed account on Itachi and Sasuke's pissing contest. He hadn't meant to oversleep. It was only by half an hour; though, by then the ANBU had roused him from his own bed and dumped his clothes on him, giving him five minutes to wash before they were to leave.

Whomever Tsunade had chosen had no fear of clan retribution, it seemed.

Was this individual not from a clan?

Hn. He pumped chakra through his body to renew his flagging energy levels and picked up his pace again. The ANBU was familiar, though he couldn't identify them from their covered head or body language. Then again, that was the point of the ANBU uniform, wasn't it? It even dissimulated gender.

Determined now to figure out who it was who'd been ranked above himself, Fugaku pressed on.

* * *

"We'll take a rest here," said the ANBU, and Fugaku's knees wobbled as they landed in a clearing.

A clearing.

He looked around.

There was no inn.

"There's no inn," he remarked aloud, just to be sure.

"No," replied the ANBU. "Establish your camp; I will secure the perimeter and gather firewood."

Fugaku's eyes narrowed, but the protests of his legs overrode his urge to correct the ANBU.

Taking a breath he released the straps of his pack and let it settle on the forest floor. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such an amazing physical release.

He blinked.

He… truly couldn't.

While he was hardly in the same condition he'd been when Itachi was born he was no pushover. It was just that a proper mission had been out of his reach for years due to his clan duties. It was refreshing to feel the forest air rushing past him as he ran, his legs pumping with strength and the inborn grace of his clan. He had missed this sense of freedom, of exhilaration of movement.

It wasn't long before the ANBU returned and sorted out its own bedroll and set about lighting a smokeless fire—with an Uchiha katon-jutsu.

Sitting on a log and subtly massaging his muscles, Fugaku's brows rose.

The ANBU ignored his reaction and pulled out a pan, filling it with the aid of a tidy water-jutsu before cooking their supper using food stored in a scroll.

"Do you need assistance removing the lactic acid from your muscles?" asked the ANBU.

"No need," said Fugaku. So help him, he may not be the youngest man in uniform, but he certainly wasn't the oldest.

… was he? He fought the urge to swallow uncomfortably, clearing his throat. He maintained his fitness level with regular exercise and sparring, however, it was true, he had not been out in the field since Sasuke was born.

The ANBU looked up from the pot of delicious smelling food to assess Fugaku's demeanour, holding his gaze with the dark holes of its mask.

"I will assist you after we've eaten," said the ANBU in a monotone.

"And I said—"

"As your commanding officer, you will maintain peak physical condition. My success depends on it," said the ANBU, turning back to the meal. "Eat." The ANBU passed him a bowl of stew, and Fugaku minded his scowl.

He would be speaking to Tsunade about this, once they returned.

* * *

Fugaku made it through half a meal before he felt the first warning twinge of a cramp.

And then his body turned against him in a flurry of hate-filled rage and revolution.

His breath hissed out of him as he felt his legs, then his back, then his stomach clenching and twisting into knots. His hands shook and the bowl tipped in his hand as he struggled to keep it upright. Cramps. Cramps everywhere.

He felt like he was being tortured.

"Is something wrong, Uchiha-san?" asked the ANBU.

He clenched his jaw; the only part of him he clenched on purpose.

He swallowed his pride and took a breath, struggling to set down his bowl beside him without spilling it.

"I would be most grateful for your assistance now, ANBU," he grit out between his teeth.

The ANBU nodded, and it was as the ANBU stood that Fugaku took note of its stance; it was a woman, he noted. A piece of the mystery solved. The movement of her hips as she stood confirmed it.

Now those hips swayed lightly as the ANBU came to kneel at his side, and without a word her hands glowed emerald with healing chakra.

"Do not fight my chakra," she advised.

With a nod Fugaku leaned back as she helped him to lie down on the forest floor, and flooded him with pain relief.

Too grateful to argue he let out a pleased sigh. This was an amazing technique. He would have to ask Sakura about it when he returned. She would probably know it, she trained many of the ANBU medics.

_Hnnnn_ , he sighed to himself. It would feel fantastic after a heavy spar.

* * *

The second day of travel went much better. His full night of uninterrupted sleep contributed to this, Fugaku thought, with some discomfort.

"You didn't wake me," he said to the ANBU as they flew through the trees the next day.

"There was no need," she said.

"I am not an old man. I don't need naps," he said.

"You didn't get enough rest the evening prior; you are not accustomed to such long stretches of endurance running, either. You are no good to me exhausted, or in less than peak form. You will take first and last watch this evening," she advised.

Fugaku's brows knit.

"How do you know I didn't sleep well the night before?" he asked, curious.

There was a moment of silence before the ANBU answered. "You are not a man to abandon his responsibilities. When I arrived at the compound, I heard several of the guards mentioning how late the clan meeting kept you." She leapt to another branch, Fugaku close at her heels. "It wasn't an accommodation for weakness, giving you a full night sleep. It was giving you an opportunity to impress with your renowned ability, Uchiha-san," she said. "You deserved a chance to start on better footing," she added.

"You're very considerate, ANBU."

She nodded, before chuckling. To Fugaku's surprise he found the sound charming.

"You will be responsible for our meal this evening," she said.

He let a small curl to his lips through. "Not a fan of cooking, ANBU?"

"I am happy to leave the kitchen work at home," she said, and he could hear her grin.

"In gratitude, I accept," he said, hoping to win her over with some charm. It wasn't every day he worked with such a professional kunoichi. Others would already be trying to curry favour with him in one way or another.

"I am your superior. You don't have a choice," said the ANBU.

Fugaku's jaw tightened.

… that was true.

* * *

"We should arrive tomorrow before noon," advised the ANBU as they ate at their campfire that night.

Fugaku nodded, watching the ANBU as she moved her mask to the side to eat her supper.

He'd made toast.

His eyes narrowed as she slipped two pills from her hip pouch and swallowed them, dry.

"Do you have a concern?" asked the ANBU.

"Those are bad for your body, ANBU."

"Malnutrition is worse," she advised, setting aside her bowl. "Wash the dishes and begin your watch. Wake me at midnight." Without further ado she lay down in her sleeping roll, her back to him.

She had removed her armour that evening to sleep, and it was maddening how obviously female this ANBU was beneath it, to Fugaku.

She was firmly muscled, yet lithe and flexible. And younger than he'd originally expected, too; possibly only Sasuke's age. He would have taken exception to being commanded by such an inexperienced individual if it hadn't become clear very early she was, professionally, beyond reproach.

It did make him wonder, however… circumstances being what they were… and with her healing abilities being so formidable and gentle…

"ANBU," he asked.

"Hm?"

Hn. She hadn't turned to look at him. He did not appreciate that lack of respect. His eyes narrowed.

"How long have you been in ANBU?"

"Ages," she replied.

"Where did you learn healing?"

"From the usual mentors. Hokage-sama taught me a thing or two to assist me with common ailments and afflictions."

"Are you benefiting from this mission in a special way?"

"No," she replied immediately.

Fugaku's eyes narrowed. "Why not?" he asked before he could help it.

"Uchiha-san?"

"Why not? I am the head of the Uchiha clan. You should be honoured to be partnered with me; did you, instead, offer a boon to the Hokage? It is rare to be in such close contact with a clan head."

He heard her sigh, very quietly, but he heard it.

"Uchiha-san, go wash the dishes and start your watch."

Fugaku's eyes widened.

_Had she… had she just…_

His grip on his spoon tightened.

She had dismissed him!

* * *

"Sama," he growled to the ANBU the next morning.

"Excuse me?" asked the ANBU.

"It isn't Uchiha-san. It is Uchiha-sama," he said proudly.

The ANBU stared at him.

Then went back to rolling up her bedding.

Fugaku's eyes widened, his face turning to stone.

"ANBU!"

Her shoulders tensed, and Fugaku stomped closer. "You will address me properly!"

The ANBU straightened… and stared at him.

"ANBU!"

Somehow, though he couldn't see an inch of her face, he knew the ANBU was counting to ten behind her mask; like he was a misbehaving child and she a frustrated parent. He knew. He had been a frustrated parent.

—He still was a frustrated parent.

"Uchiha- _sama,_ " she said, with particular emphasis on his honourific. "Prepare your things. We leave in less than seven minutes," she advised evenly.

Apoplectic now, Fugaku felt his face flush.

"You—"

"Are your commanding officer," she said. She turned away from him.

As they raced across the grasslands that morning, he was sure he heard her mutter under her breath something about the apple landing not far from the tree. But that couldn't be right.

* * *

"There are things," said Fugaku that afternoon after they'd delivered their scrolls to the Daimyou, "that age bestows before youth."

He heard the ANBU sigh.

"Are you married, ANBU?"

"That is a very personal question."

"So you aren't!" he seized on her answer, feeling smug. "I didn't think so."

The ANBU stopped in her tracks.

"Excuse me?" she asked, and for once he heard true emotion in her voice. It was a potent combination of anger and disgust.

"Another kunoichi would have deferred to a clan head, regardless of her rank," he advised, chin in the air.

"Have you by any chance met my colleague Mitarashi Anko, Uchiha-san?"

"Sama," he glared at her. His gut had churned just a bit at the mention of Mitarashi-san.

"Or perhaps our esteemed Hokage?" she continued, voice level.

Fugaku cleared his throat. "Extraordinary kunoichi in their own right," he said, waving them off as if they were inconsequential. "However, you, ANBU, are years from their level of experience. And as such, you cannot understand the importance that such experience lends a shinobi."

The ANBU still had not moved from her standstill.

"Experience," she said, nodding slowly. "Ah. Could you please enlighten me?"

"Of course. For example, until you are married you could not hope to know the comfort of a husband's embrace, the assurance that comes with waking up and _knowing one's place,"_ he said.

The ANBU folded her arms. "Why wouldn't I already know that?"

Fugaku's retort died in his throat. "Come again?"

The ANBU crossed her arms, cocking her hip. "Why wouldn't I know the feeling of another's arms around me?"

His brow furrowed. "You… you aren't married."

She stared at him through her mask. Judging him. "Neither are your sons," she said.

With that the ANBU struck out once more, heading to the inn where she had reserved their rooms.

"And my place is currently as your commanding officer," she tossed over her shoulder. "Fall in."

Separate rooms, he thought to himself with his lips pressed so tightly together they were nearly white.

However, as a dutiful shinobi he followed her lead.

* * *

"You slept with my son?" Fugaku asked the ANBU at dinner that night.

She gave a sigh and shook her head behind its pearlescent mask. "Not this again," she muttered.

"You said—"

"I am possibly the only kunoichi in Konoha who has not slept with your son," she said, shaking her head. "You need to have a talk with him."

Fugaku ignored her and chewed a bite of his steak.

Taking his lead, the ANBU shifted her mask up and bit into her chicken.

"Why not?" he asked next.

The ANBU choked.

"What?" she coughed.

"Why didn't you sleep with him? Do you prefer… Er… with the matter of preference being more widely accepted these days…"

He was sure he misheard the ANBU when she muttered something under her breath that sounded like, 'for fluff steaks'.

"Uchiha-san," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "Talk to your sons."

His eyes darkened. "My family affairs are none of—"

"Exactly," she said, turning back to her food.

There was a moment of tense silence before Fugaku frowned.

"Sama," he repeated.

"Don't pout. It's not attractive," she sighed.

And to Fugaku's mortification, he found himself blushing from his neck to the tips of his ears.

He couldn't speak.

"Hm?" asked the ANBU, looking up at him. She leaned forward. "Are you alright? Is your food poisoned? Are you choking?"

"Attractive?" he wheezed.

And the ANBU stilled.

"Objectively speaking," she said, pushing her chicken around her plate, looking away. "You aren't… bad looking. You're quite fit," she said. She sighed. "Instead of pushing your sons to chase the same woman and pitting them against each other, have you considered finding someone new for yourself?"

Fugaku stopped breathing.

What was this woman, this kunoichi, implying? That he'd set his sons on Sakura?

"I have done no such thing!" he rasped, swallowing repeatedly to clear his throat.

"Maybe you should consider it. Let the boys find someone else in the meantime," said the ANBU, misunderstanding his reaction.

"No! Not that it's any of your business, but no, I didn't… set them on her. They aren't dogs to be commanded," he said, sneering.

"You didn't?" Her tone was curious.

"No. I've always given them their independence when it came to their personal lives," said Fugaku. "I was fortunate enough to get along very well with my wife in our arranged marriage, but that is a rare thing. I didn't want to jeopardize their chances at happiness. I…" He looked at the ANBU studying him. He frowned. "They chose their own mate." He shook his head, setting his hands down on the table and giving into the informality between them. "It was just their luck to fall for the same kunoichi," he sighed, somewhat tired now.

"But I thought…" Her voice trailed off, and Fugaku ignored it.

"I am happy to pass the mantle of clan head to Itachi once he is married and expecting his heir. The clan needs a strong matriarch. Every clan needs a balanced hand to guide it," he explained, remembering his conversation with his sons. "The tension between Itachi and Sasuke at the moment is unfortunate. I encouraged Itachi over Sasuke, hoping that it would discourage the territorial behaviour sprouting up between them, and help Sasuke realize that Sakura didn't see him that way." He stared at his plate. "They disagreed. Forcibly," he added. "Which is how you ended up with me on this mission, ANBU."

"Your sons were originally scheduled to be on this mission together," said the ANBU.

"Hn. It is probably a good thing they did not venture out together for this one," mused Fugaku aloud. "Though it is strange the Hokage would send both my sons out, together, on the same mission. With them being my heirs there is normally a clause included in the Konoha charter that they are not to be paired up so. If something were to happen to them, then…" He cut himself off unwilling to consider it.

He startled at the smaller, warm hand that closed over his.

"We would never let anything happen to them," said the ANBU, her voice compassionate.

"Hn," said Fugaku.

She gave a small huff. "I think the Hokage just needed to get them out of her hair for a bit," she said, her tone teasing.

Fugaku groaned. "Were they bothering Sakura that much?"

The ANBU gave an adorable, feminine shrug. "There were a few rumours that Sakura had had it up to her hair with them," she said, chuckling.

Fugaku sighed, shoulders sagging. "Those boys…."

The ANBU giggled.

To Fugaku's surprise, his heart warmed at the sound.

* * *

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Many, many thanks to AijoInu and Nikolita for their help with this story! Also, the next chapter will have a tamer version posted to my fanfiction.net account (username 'moor'). Both versions of the next chapter will be posted this weekend. After that, updates may slow down for a bit as I edit and tighten up the last few chapters. Let me know what you think so far! Happy reading!


	4. The Big Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

#  Chapter 4

 

They arrived at their rooms that night under friendlier terms… to find that Fugaku’s rooms were unavailable.

 

A quick trip to the inn’s main desk revealed that after a flooding incident, Fugaku’s rooms were no longer fit for use. 

 

“We moved everything into the ANBU’s room,” insisted the concierge. “Unfortunately we had a last-minute large party redirected to us which filled our other rooms.”

 

_ Of course it did _ , Fugaku thought. 

 

“Thank you for your care,” said the ANBU, and she led them back to her, now their, room.

 

“Please shower first,” said the ANBU as she sat on her bed. 

 

But being a gentleman, Fugaku shook his head. “Please,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom. 

 

With a small nod she collected her bag and entered before him.

 

Glancing around, Fugaku decided to make tea. Their mission should conclude the next day when they set off for Konoha again with the Daimyou’s reply. Their mission could truly have been completed by a chunin team, if that, however he certainly understood the necessity to keep up appearances and treat interactions with care and delicacy. A clan head and an ANBU sent on a messenger run? Of course it was overkill; but it sent a clear message that the Village took the Daimyou’s concerns seriously.

 

It was like he and the ANBU had discussed that evening over wine—a responsible amount, nothing excessive—sometimes appearances had to be maintained in order to remain a figurehead. Decisions had to be made; yes, he had come down hard on his sons. But it was long past the time for Itachi to take on his official clan title. The Uchiha lineage didn’t affect solely the clan, either; it affected the Village and how the Village was perceived by other nations. Anything resembling hesitation was considered weakness. Itachi marrying would solidify the Village’s reputation by proxy; it was why he was pushing him so hard. 

 

Certainly Fugaku himself could have looked for a new wife, he’d said to the ANBU, but how many women would be in a position to become a new clan matriarch? His sons were already chasing after the best, most appropriate candidate in all of Konoha. It was unfortunate that their efforts were driving her further from their reach. Even Itachi, who, while discrete, had had his own share of partners and had enough experience and intelligence to secure a good union, wasn’t successful—yet—in clinching Sakura’s attention at least as far as Fugaku had been able to tell at dinner several nights ago. 

 

In truth, Sakura’s resilience to his sons’ attention had flummoxed him. Had the boys asked her why she refused? He didn’t know. However, his sons had a great deal going for them, so Fugaku had to remain confident in their eventual success before considering a new match of his own; it was just going to take longer than he’d originally anticipated. His boys were his priority.

 

With his sons searching for their own match, could he risk searching for his own? 

 

He’d shaken his head. No. His heart sank as he remembered his conversation with the ANBU. He would not. His sons needed him as a father. He had much experience to pass on, after all.

 

_ “You and your ‘experience’ again,” had said the ANBU, shaking her head. _

 

_ “A man in my position has more experience than you’ll ever appreciate,” he’d said, chuckling under his breath. She had joined in and raised a glass to his health. _

 

Hn. It was nice to share conversation with the ANBU, he thought. She may have ignored certain formalities, but she had more than held her own through the conversation. And he’d learned from her that poor Sakura had thought he’d ‘set’ his sons after her. He would need to arrange for some kind of… explanation to her upon his return. 

 

And perhaps, when he returned, he could continue some of his conversations with the ANBU?

 

He pressed his lips together to stifle the urge to smile. He swallowed. It was… pleasant… to converse with her.

 

And how relieving it was to hear that she had not slept with his son, he thought, shaking his head as he opened his bag to pull out his toiletries. After the rumours had sprung up about Sasuke, he’d started believing the only person who hadn’t slept with him had been…

 

… Fugaku’s hands dropped to his sides.

 

His cheeks flushed.

 

_ No,  _ he thought, firmly picking up his pack once more _. It was impossible. _

 

And… well, he’d speak to Sasuke when he returned home, anyway.

 

And Itachi. Just in case.

 

But what a preposterous idea. 

 

* * *

 

 

Sakura turned on the extractor fan in the bathroom to cover her sighing and muttering. 

 

Really? She had to share a room with Fugaku now? How was she supposed to remain anonymous on this mission while sharing a room?

 

Tsunade was going to ring her by the neck if she gave away who she was.

 

At least he was being a gentleman, she thought with a smile. For all his pompous, conservative, out-dated ways, he was a sweet man. Even if he did have his head up his ass sometimes.

 

She swallowed a chuckle. How wrong was it that she’d enjoyed needling him about being his superior? He made it so easy, though.

 

And, dare she think it, sometimes she thought he may have done it on purpose to get her attention.

 

She shook her head as she undressed.  At least she needn’t worry about him ‘accidentally’ walking in on her. He was too much of a gentleman. 

 

Running a cupful of water as she brushed her teeth, Sakura considered Fugaku and blushed. 

 

He was a bit smitten. Possibly. Maybe.

 

She spit out her toothpaste and bit her lip between her white teeth. Perhaps more than smitten. He’d been downright charming through dinner (and wine). And respectful, actually, once she put her foot down about certain things.

 

Shaking her head again, she turned on the shower to warm the water.

 

It was nice being able to hold a conversation through an entire meal without having a man ogle her figure, or fall all over themselves, intimidated by her skills and reputation. It was nice to verbally battle someone and not have to worry about the politics of it reflecting on the Village or Hokage. Fugaku may report her for being impertinent, but she doubted it. He’d pulled just as many rank-related jibes she had, if not more, but had fallen in line. 

 

Lifting her face to the rush of water, Sakura closed her eyes as her cheeks warmed.

 

And… for being nearly fifty, he wasn’t in bad shape…

 

She bit her lip and swallowed a groan.

 

All right. She was, perhaps, a bit smitten herself.

 

( _ Doomed. We’re doomed. Let’s be honest, _ said Inner.  _ You traded his sons for an upgraded version-Uchiha. Remember why you took this mission? You begged Tsunade to get out of the Village while Itachi and Sasuke were out of commission because you knew they’d hound you. Now, Fugaku? Yeah. You’re Doomed. _ )

 

( _ Doomed delightfully,  _ sighed Sakura. _ And at least he’s more… experienced. _ )

 

(Inner bit her lip.  _ There is that,  _ she purred.)

 

* * *

 

 

The door to the bathroom opened and the ANBU stood there in a loose tank top and shorts, her head covered with a fresh cowl. Her mask hung around her neck.

 

“Your turn,” she said, and her feminine voice was far less distorted now that the mask was removed. “Thanks.”

 

The steam poured from the bathroom and the ANBU rubbed a towel over her arms and throat. A part of Fugaku which had remained dormant for years stirred. 

 

“ANBU,” he said. “May I ask why you never pursued my sons?”

 

“Hm? Oh. It would have been uncomfortable,” she said vaguely.

 

“So you never slept with either of them?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

 

Without her uniform on, he was able to see the faint flush that started across the exposed section of her upper chest. The tattoo on her shoulder stood out against her pale skin. His heart beat once, hard, at the sinuous confirmation of her skills.

 

“Uchiha-san,” she said. “This line of conversation can’t continue.”

 

“Why not?” he asked, closing in on her.

 

“Because it is an invasion of my privacy. It is inappropriate. It is unprofessional. It can be considered sexual harassment on your part,” she listed, holding her ground. “Take your pick. And your shower,” she said, gesturing to the bathroom. “For the sake of our mission here in Grass, I will assume you spoke in jest.”

 

She wasn’t intimidated by him, he noted, pleased. In fact, she was calm and collected as she recited her reasoning. She was used to dealing with authority.

 

“And if we were in Konoha?” he pushed.

 

“I am on duty, and you are not in a position to intimidate me,” she replied. “Please enjoy your shower, Uchiha-san.”

 

“Sama,” he said, looming over her from his height advantage.

 

She shook her head. “With all your vaunted experience, have you not learned that some women cannot be coerced into giving you what you want?”

 

“How about persuaded?” he asked, leaning down. His wide mouth ghosted over her masked lips, his brows raised. “I admit, you have me curious, ANBU.”

 

“You know what they said about curiosity,” she quipped. 

 

He lifted a hand to her cowl, teasing along its lower trim at her jawline. “There are many benefits to joining me on a social basis,” he insisted, running his fingers down her arms.

 

“I mean no offense, Uchiha-san, but the clans hold no sway over me,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “And as for a social basis, I think you already established your sons’ happiness was your priority.”

 

_ Not from a clan,  _ he noted _. Confident. Self-possessed. Competent in her skills. Who was this intriguing woman?  _

 

“Who commands you, then?” he murmured, brushing his cheek against hers as his hands trailed up her shoulders to caress her soft skin. 

 

_ Very competent, _ he noted _. No scarring on her skin anywhere that he could feel, beneath his inquisitive fingertips. _

 

“The Hokage,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. He could just barely make them out against the fitted cowl.

 

“Is she your only master?” he asked, his nose sweeping past the shell of her ear with a warm puff of air. With a small measure of pride he saw the fine hair on the back of her neck stir, and goosebumps pebble her skin in its wake.

 

“Yes,” she said, amused. “You are awfully close, Uchiha-san.”

 

Yet she did not push him away. Fugaku’s senses lit with minuscule sparks as he enjoyed their game of cat and mouse. It had been twenty years since his youth, and pursuit, while he’d rarely indulged, was something he recalled more than fondly; he was, in fact, voracious for the challenge the ANBU presented.

 

“What if I asked the Hokage’s permission? Or… Requested a favour of her?” he prodded. He was enjoying his chase, he realized. He liked that this ANBU had not given in to him. Her determination fascinated him. Her answers were vague, yet telling. When he returned to the Village he would find out exactly who she was, and whom he needed to charm to engage her further. As the head of the Uchiha clan, there was virtually nothing outside his reach. Even ANBU held few secrets when the right doors were tapped.

 

“Does the head of the Uchiha clan require the Hokage’s influence to find a bed partner?” asked the ANBU. She shook her head. “I think not. Move on, Uchiha-san.”

 

“What if I could convince you?” he asked, his fingertips coming to rest at her hips. He wished more than anything to see her eyes; as yet they remained hidden from him by the black mesh cowl she wore, hiding every detail of her face and hair. Was her hair long? Short? Mid-length? He longed to run his fingers through it to test its texture and softness.

 

The ANBU sighed. “As I’ve said, I am not—”

 

_ Stubborn. She was stubborn _ . He found it adorable.

 

“One kiss.”

 

“Uchiha-san—”

 

“Sama.” His hair swept through the air at the side of her cheek, brushing over her cowl. “One kiss, ANBU. If you feel nothing, then not only will I back off, but I will also… recall my sons from their pursuits of Haruno Sakura. You are a colleague of hers, correct?”

 

“We’re close,” said the ANBU, her chest heaving for a moment. “You would speak to Itachi and Sasuke to… redirect their attention?”

 

He nodded.

 

“For one kiss?” she clarified.

 

“Hn.”

  
Her fingers twitched at her side a moment as she considered. Fugaku pulled back just enough to watch her body language. She looked down between them; beneath her cowl he saw her lips moving.

 

“One kiss,” she agreed. “And then you call off your sons.”

 

His expression flickered at her decisiveness. “You have my word.”

 

She nodded and presented him with her masked cheek.

 

He chuckled, deep in his throat.

 

“Oh no,” he said. His fingers stroked her throat. With his pointer finger he traced a path from her pulse to her lips, tapping their seam. “This will be a proper kiss if I am to have an opportunity to convince you.”

 

His finger slid down to the hem of her cowl with deliberate intent. 

 

With hesitant fingers at first, then with more confidence, the ANBU lifted the bottom of her cowl, revealing her lush tongue as it wet her lips. 

 

“One kiss,” she repeated, lifting her chin.

 

_ One kiss is all it will take, _ he thought.

 

Holding her gaze from where he could tell her eyes were, he lowered his head to her throat, brushing against her soft skin. His eyes dipped to half mast as he breathed in her scent, fresh from the shower. It was faint, natural, and slightly floral.  _ And familiar, _ he thought. He must have run into her previously in Konoha. 

 

“Have we met before?” he murmured, tracing a path down the other side of her face, noting how her pulse fluttered as he neared her lips. With a rope of desire coiling inside him he smirked as she shivered when he brought a hand to her throat to stroke her pale skin.

 

“You would never look at me twice if you knew who I was,” the ANBU breathed, before she swallowed. 

 

Fugaku’s fingers teased the hem of her cowl, the flimsy barrier that hid her identity from him.

 

“That can be corrected easily,” he said, and as he lowered his lips to a hair’s breath from hers, she smiled, genuinely.

 

“Duty,” she reminded him softly, though her voice was fond.

 

“No duty tonight,” he murmured, and he slanted his mouth over hers. Gently at first, he teased at her plump lips, massaging them with his until he felt her minty breath whoosh out as light as a butterfly’s wings; when he curled his hand up under her mask, tangling his hand in her long, silky hair he felt her shiver. It was all the reaction he needed to convince him. With that he moved over her, his other hand falling back to her hip to rub up and down her side. 

 

Lust, so long dormant, flared inside him when the ANBU’s breath hitched and he deepened the kiss in response. Angling her head possessively he brought her closer, hungry to elicit more from her. Perhaps he should have felt constrained by the difference in their ages and stations, for she couldn’t be much older than his son Sasuke, yet instead pride flooded him. His ego swelled with his ability to still melt a woman’s knees with a kiss, and he used this kiss to full effect with his reticent ANBU. He would make her beg for him.

 

When he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, she resisted for a heartbeat before opening to him; in his arms he felt her soften. Her eyes closed as she relaxed against him with a purr of contentment.

 

As her hands lifted to his chest and the back of his neck, he gave in to the urge to moan into her pliant mouth, pleased with her reciprocation. It had been too long since he had enjoyed a woman’s complete surrender and he wanted more.

 

With care and attention, his nature rising in him, Fugaku kissed from the ANBU’s lips down her jaw, and soon pressed warm butterfly kisses along her sensitive collarbone, always angling her head and neck as he saw fit. Never to hurt her, of course; but to let her know who controlled her and her body’s sensual reaction.

 

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she panted under his sweet attentions, and she mewled in her throat. “Uchiha-san,” she breathed, “I-I think…”

 

“Hn, feel, don’t think,” he murmured as he nosed further down her chest. The faintest sweet swell of her breast could be felt through the gap of her tank top. He nudged it down with his cheek, laving a trail with his tongue before kissing the valley between her ripe breasts and drawing a gasp from her.

 

“That’s enough!” she gulped, though her back arched, pressing her chest into his and her fingers curling tight in his hair holding him close said otherwise.

 

He lipped at her fresh skin, tasting her. “ANBU,” he murmured sweetly. “Do you wish to stop there?”

 

Her panting breaths told him no, and he massaged the back of her head and hair with strong fingers. She moaned as his fingers kneaded down the tight muscles of her neck, before letting her head fall back and exposing her throat.

 

Her heavy breathing left her chest rising and falling, and Fugaku couldn’t tear his eyes away from the vision of loveliness in his arms. 

 

If only he knew who she was.

 

“A wager, ANBU?” he asked, voice husky and deep.

 

“Hmm?”

 

If he could see her eyes he knew they’d be hazy; his smirk grew.

 

She reached up dazedly to pull down her cowl once more and he caught her hand, stilling her intention. With gentle control he clasped her hand in his own, squeezing it until she held his in return. He caught sight of her pink tongue wetting her lips again, and pulled her even closer until they could feel each other’s heart beat. He released her hand to let her decide; she did not reach for her cowl again.

 

“I can kiss you so thoroughly you’ll pull your mask off and beg for more,” he enticed, the hand at the back of her neck sliding loose to trail down her back. A bit of concentration had him focusing chakra on his fingertips to leave a tingle in its wake; she shivered in his arms, pressing closer to him. With sensual tugs and teases he rolled her shirt up, and when she lifted her arms in compliance he pulled it free. Her breasts, under no restraint, bounced freely. For the moment, he let them be, tempering his urge to weigh and roll them in his palms.

 

“I…” The ANBU made a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat as his hands came to settle on the curved dip of her back, tendrils of chakra passing back and forth between his fingers and her spine. “I’m on duty, Uchiha-san.” Her voice twisted as he sent a particularly shivery tingle down her vertebrae. “I would be dismissed from ANBU.”

 

“You won’t be,” he swore. That much was definitely within his power. “I can ensure your continued rank.” As a clan head, he had certain privileges and in this case was more than willing to extend his protection to this woman, regardless of her answer.

 

“What is the wager?” she asked, and he noted she was losing her renowned focus.

 

“One night together. If I can’t convince you to stay, you may keep your mask and your identity,” _ until we get back to Konoha and I use everything in my power to track you down myself.  _

 

“Uchiha-san, if all you want is a bed partner, there were many women downstairs who would be happy to keep you company.”

 

He gazed into the shadowy cowl.

 

“They aren’t the ones I want,” he said.

 

“I’m not either,” she insisted, though her protest was weak even to her own ears.

 

“ANBU,” he said, lowering the register of his voice as he dipped his head in closer to her ear. “You are everything I want and didn’t know I was in need of. And the minute we get back to Konoha, I will ensure nothing interrupts us for a good,” he nuzzled her throat, “long,” he dragged out the word as his hands settled outside her thighs, “time,” he finished, hoisting her muscled legs up around his waist. “Say yes,” he groaned.

 

“I can’t,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder and kissing his throat. “I want to, but I can’t.”

 

With that he rolled their hips together, his arousal pressing into the warmth of her core. She nearly burned him with her unabashed hunger.

 

“Peel the mask off,” he breathed against her lips between kisses. He pulled back the covers on the nearest bed, hers.

 

“N-no,” she panted, even as her hands lifted to his broad shoulders.

 

He lowered her to the sheets with care and kissed her, hard. He pulled back to look at her again, knowing he was pushing her but unwilling to give up when he knew what stood in the way. 

 

_ Duty. _

 

She truly was perfect.

 

“Do you intend to make me beg?” He leaned his forehead against hers and growled against her lips. His chest heaved with his heavy breathing. He needed her, needed to join with her. Needed to make her his.

 

“No,” she whispered, pulling him closer and over her. His hands fell to the waist of her sleeping shorts, tracing their edge along the naked, sensitive skin of her belly and sides.

 

“Do you expect me to pine for you?”

 

“No!” she said, and he could hear the hint of laughter in her voice. “I… I can’t give you a yes. If I’m questioned…”

 

As she spoke he leaned back. Then he reached for the hem of her cotton shorts before drifting his hands beneath it, exploring the expanse of her smooth, toned stomach; then moving up, to the warmth and softness of her under breasts until his thumbs pressed up, just skimming her nipples where she mewled under him. He leaned over to kiss her belly.

 

He considered his words and what she was trying to tell him.

 

“You trust me,” he murmured into her flesh, kissing, licking and nibbling his way up and down her abdomen. She shuddered under him as his thumbs pressed just right, tightening her nipples. His smirk turned feral. “On your hands and knees,” he ordered.

 

“But—”

 

“You will turn to me when you are ready to reveal yourself,” he said.

 

And so she turned away... and lifted her hips. 

 

Pressing his lips together, Fugaku swallowed.

 

The fabric barely made a sound as he slipped down her shorts and panties, then caressed her hip with one hand. While undoing his belt and removing his clothes with the other. For a moment he stood behind her, observing the perfection of her lithe form as she took her position. As a grown man he felt nearly undone already by her trust. He swallowed again to regain his composure for a moment, reminding himself of so many, many things...

 

“Down,” he said with a husky voice, a hand between her shoulder blades, until her pert derriere was raised proudly before him.

 

He ran his hands down her back, warm and firm, massaging his way up again before caressing her sides. Her pale body was made to be worshipped, with nary a scratch on it. It awed and inspired him, this level of skill she must possess to be so unmarked.

 

On his knees he moved over her until he covered her with his body.

 

And then with soft lips began kissing down her spine, from the nape of her neck, between each vertebrae to the dimples in her lower back. He felt her shiver beneath his careful lips as he passed over a particularly sensitive spot. Pressing a devious smirk into the dip above her rear, he licked, then blew on it for good measure, thrilled at the way her fingers seized in the taut bedsheets and twisted as she tried to muffle her whimper.

 

His fingers had not been idle through his adulation, no; his callused hands warmed her sides and her outer thighs, relaxing and coaxing her to surrender to his ministrations. Soothing her body into a deeper sense of arousal with his homage. Exciting her as his palms moved higher, closer together, to graze the delicate skin of her inner thighs, then down again; with each brush closer to her apex her chest filled to panting, and with each glide down he pressed her incrementally wider. The movements were slow, rhythmic, ritualistic in his reverence of her temple.

 

Inside himself he felt the fire that symbolized the Uchiha burning brighter, higher, with each touch and press closer, each inch closer he came to her center, each brush of his body against the backs of her thighs. Soon his own rhythm had set as he moved against her, hips flexing in smooth strokes, his intention and need clear.

 

The sound of the ANBU’s mewling pants was a chant benediction to continue, and when she rolled her hips against his, seeking friction and contact to ease her own ache, his shoulders tensed. 

 

With the next press of his palms up her inner thighs, he swept against the crevasse that hid her most secret of places from him, drawing a muffled moan from her lips. Maintaining his rhythm, he pressed closer, tracing her nether lips and testing her, dipping in once, twice, before spreading her lips and pressing the heel of his palm against her sensitive bud and massaging it with firm, even pressure. She groaned, her legs shaking against him, before he felt the wetness against his palm.

 

It was his turn to fight the urge to tremble as he accepted that for the first time since his young adulthood he would be taking a new lover. Excitement crashed through him and his arousal felt heavy as it pressed against his stomach.

 

He lifted his head from where he kissed her flank, and looked down at where they were nearly joined. He swallowed when he saw how hard and ready he was, how much precum had gathered and begun to spill from his tip in his eagerness to fill and make love to her.

 

“Are you protected, ANBU?” he asked, voice hoarse from need. And it was a mighty need, he realized, as their motions pressed him closer and closer to her clutching channel. Her core was dark and her nether lips swollen with the blood that sensitized them to his touch.

 

“Don’t make me wait any longer, please!” she begged, hands squeezing the crumpled bedsheets.

 

“ANBU—”

 

“Yes!” she cried.

 

He aligned himself and pressed his tip inside her just as he saw her hands creep towards her cowl and his breath caught; _ now, would she—? _

 

But she pulled the blanket down closer and bit into it with a low moan as he entered her fully. His brow dipped as he felt every warm, clenching inch her welcome. Fugaku had almost forgotten what it felt like to be squeezed so snugly in a young, nubile body like his ANBU’s; and it nearly unmanned him when he discovered she had phenomenal control over every one of those feminine muscles. 

 

Adjusting his grip, he pressed closer, until her moisture glistened on him as he pumped himself deeper and deeper into her. He groaned when he pressed up against something inside her, and his grip sank into her flared hips when he realized it must be her cervix. Respectfully he drew back, only to feel her grab for his backside, drawing him in again. 

 

“It’s okay,” she said, the back of her neck blushing.

 

When his pace increased again, he felt her velvet clasp tighten around him and he swallowed; and then nearly choked when her nimble fingers reached between them to fondle and stretch his sac. Whatever he had done to deserve her, he would beg thanks a thousand times the next time he visited the family shrine. 

 

His head dipping forward, he cocooned himself around her and set a firm, sinuous pace, never letting up on her bundle of nerves for an instant.

 

As such, when he felt her legs trembling and sensed her about to let go, he asked, “Your cowl, ANBU?”

 

Her high-pitched whine of frustration was music to his ears. 

 

But she did not relent.

 

He nuzzled her between her shoulder blades before pressing his chest into her body and reaching beneath her to tease her breasts. He could hear her panting, her mouth hanging open now as sweat slicked her back and she struggled to remain on her knees. It fed his ego and he pressed on, certain he could convince her to surrender to him. 

 

“You can give in. I’ll grant you release if you give me your cowl,” he murmured between kisses across her shoulders.

 

“P-please,” she begged, but her cowl remained where it was, hiding her face from his view.

 

Her trembling began anew, and glancing down where they were connected he saw her toes curling; his own had been pressing harder and harder into the mattress as their bodies moved together like a tide, pushing and pulling each other along before crashing together on a faraway island beach. He was sure she could feel his pulse through her channel where he moved with her, and when he felt her knees giving way he swept them to their sides and continued his pace, holding her close to him in an embrace.

 

He pressed his forehead into her shoulder, mentally begging her to give in; he wasn’t a young man any longer. His stamina was stretched to its limit.

 

“ANBU,” he rasped against her skin. He’d long ago stripped her of her uniform and inhibitions. All that remained of her disguise was her cowl. How it frustrated him!

 

“I can’t,” she cried out. “I want to but I can’t. She’ll dismiss me,” she gasped.

 

“The Hokage?” he asked, measuring his pace to glide in and out of his trembling ANBU. But he’d sworn to himself she would not get her release without him knowing her name.

 

“Hngh!” she arched her back, her face locked almost in an expression of pain. Inside her, he felt her grasping for him and trying to pull him in deeper; but he slowed his pace just enough to drive her wanton with need, and left her panting and shaking once more.

 

Who was this beautiful creature that enraptured him so?

 

Pressing kisses to her throat, he slowed his hips to a crawl, pumping in and out of her with long, torturous thrusts that reached in deep and drew out her soul. Reaching around her warm body, he took her hand and wove their fingers together. 

 

He hadn’t felt this close to someone in so long; and not only the physical intimacy, but… there was more to it than the climactic release they both longed for. He felt a connection with this ANBU who murmured in his arms.

 

“Take my hitai-ate.” He finally made out her trembling words. 

 

He let go of her hand and untied it from her head.

 

“Cover your eyes,” she said.

 

He frowned at her, but did as she asked. She reached back to touch his face before nodding to herself.

 

He held his breath.

 

“Get on y-your back,” she whispered.

 

Instantly he rolled them over; she brought her leg up and brought it over his hip, never dislodging him from inside her. Her graceful movements and control spoke of long days spent training and mastering her skills. He blessed every one.

 

Now straddling him, his ANBU adjusted her position slightly. Fugaku could see nothing but a sliver of light from beneath the bottom of the hitai-ate.

 

Then every nerve in his body tingled as he heard the cowl’s fabric slip off and fall to the mattress beside him, and long, silky soft hair, dried from her shower, tumbling over his shoulders. With as non-threatening a motion as he could manage, he reached for her, pleased when she leaned closer to him and allowed him to tangle his fingers in her locks.

 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching up higher to cup her cheek. To his surprise, it warmed against his palm. She was blushing.

 

“Your imagination has run away with you, Uchiha-san,” she said, rolling her hips; he heard how the way she bit her lip affected her words. Her voice, no longer distorted by the mask, was the purest music to him. It heightened his experience and he struggled to maintain his self-discipline. She gave a pleased sigh and he felt her tilt her head back again as she ground down on him and squeezed. “Nnngh, yes.” 

 

And with that his control broke. He would never last long like this; he’d offered every control he could, but this he could not withstand. He grabbed her and brought her mouth to his, his other hand seizing her hip as he met her thrusts and set a new, earth shattering pace for them. 

 

“Tell me,” he growled, feeling his Sharingan activating behind the mask that bound his eyes. Clever girl, damn her.

 

“Uchiha-san—!” she gasped against his lips, kissing him back just as fiercely.

 

“I’ll make you tell me,” Fugaku said, desperate; his eyes burning as his large hands forced her to meet his frenzied movements. It was coming, it was coming too quickly; he felt her core fluttering around him as he ground his teeth shut and tried to stave off the tension that was flooding him, but it was a losing battle at this point.

 

“Almost there,” she cried, and he felt wetness on his forearm where he gripped the back of her head, kissing her and kissing her and unable to stop. Kissing her as he hadn’t kissed someone in decades, in between her culminating shouts of,  “Yes, yes, Fugaku, yes!”

 

The last vestiges of his control slipped their reins and in the darkness of his blindfold all he saw was white as he jerked hard into his ANBU, his grip bruising as he pumped and pumped and pumped while she milked him of his seed, her climax following his like a chakra rebound. 

 

—and then he tore at the hitai-ate binding his eyes, snarling at the fact he missed his ANBU’s climaxing expression—

 

—before he felt a lightning fast tap of chakra to his temple, and everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There'll be a small delay between now and the next update since I'm filling in a few fun scenes between now and the official 'end' of the story I'd written previously. ;) If you have any specific requests, let me know.


	5. Crime and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're back in the Village and Tsunade *knows*.

**Chapter 5**

Fugaku woke late the next day from the most blissful sleep he remembered having in years. Rubbing at his crusty eyes, he frowned. Something was off. He was in his pyjamas, in his own bed at the inn.

His eyes shot to the ANBU's bed across from him, her covers piled in a mess. He could have sworn…

"... Uchiha-san?"

_Had it been a dream?_

"Are you feeling well enough to travel, Uchiha-san?" asked the ANBU again.

He looked at the ANBU, as calm as ever as she strapped on her armour.

She showed no reaction to him.

"Hn," he said, rising to his feet. He showered with perfunctual care and dressed in his jounin uniform.

Exiting the bathroom he saw the ANBU making her bed. When her back was turned he activated his Sharingan.

Checking the gaps in her uniform, there wasn't a mark on her. From what he'd done to her last night, she should be covered in passion bites. So how? How had every trace of evidence disappeared?

Yet, his deep sleep; his utter relaxation, even now… normally that only happened after…

He turned away, deactivating his Sharingan with a frown. He stifled the urge to swallow as he tried to make sense of the situation.

They returned to Konoha in peace, with the Daimyou's response in hand.

The entire trip back, Fugaku pondered the ANBU's non-reaction to him.

Then he smirked. That was it. She was back to her old persona, the sexless soldier.

But he knew better.

He knew what she was under that uniform.

Now, to find out who...

* * *

A week later after the pair had returned to Konoha, Tsunade cracked open the third crate of imported saké that had arrived courtesy an Uchiha-liveried porter, and huffed.

This was premium stuff. Cultivated from vines tended by virgin orphans, if she didn't miss her mark (and with saké, she never did).

She shook her head and called for a messenger-nin.

Fine. She'd see what Fugaku was sniffing around about. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to order in this much quality bribery material, she could at least hear him out.

* * *

From his seat at the kitchen table in their family home, a still-healing Sasuke watched his father pace from the fridge to the stove, and back to the fridge again. His father ran his hands through his hair twice before his gaze lingered in the middle distance, unfocused; his tense shoulders relaxed and his breathing calmed… and then he'd shake his head with a furrowed brow and mumble under his breath.

He did this several times before Sasuke stood and went to move the pan off the stove before his father got so distracted he burned down the kitchen.

"You had a mission while we were… resting?" Sasuke prodded.

"Hn," said Fugaku, giving a vague nod.

"Did it go well?"

At that, Fugaku's whole body stiffened, then relaxed… before he stared unseeing down at the pan of half-burned vegetables he'd been frying.

"Ah," he said in a level tone.

Forehead wrinkling, Sasuke turned to look at his father more carefully. There was a blemish of some sort near his throat and he reached out to touch it.

"Did you bang your—"

Fugaku whirled on his hell, dark eyes wide as he stared at Sasuke, body tense as a taut spring.

"—head…" Sasuke's hand paused in mid-air.

They held each other's gaze a moment before Fugaku swallowed and walked away.

"No."

"Maybe you should get out a bit for a walk," suggested Sasuke.

"Ah," said his father.

* * *

As they both had errands to run that afternoon, Sasuke joined his distracted father for a walk to the merchant district. Itachi, still sporting his own wear and tear from his spat with Sasuke, had been relegated to desk duty at ANBU HQ until he was cleared for mission duty. According to Tsunade, they were both on temporary behavioural probation. For his part, Sasuke had decided to take the opportunity to try and change his father's mind about his chances with Sakura. Sure, he was leaving her alone; however, if she happened to show an interest in him, then perhaps they could work things out, move forward more slowly, get to know each other better… His thoughts drifted off as they set off from the Uchiha district.

As they meandered along Konoha's dusty streets, the sun shining down on their backs and warming them, Sasuke watched his father out of the corner of his eye. He was still acting a bit odd. Normally he returned the greetings he received from those around him; today he barely acknowledged them. Rather, every few seconds his father scanned the rooftops above them. Had he always done this?

Sasuke wondered at the change in his father's behaviour until he saw his father's expression freeze when he caught sight of an ANBU team leaping across the bakery roof three storeys above them. His Sharingan immediately flickering into activity, Fugaku fell into a ready position, stance wider, arms at his sides, as he examined the team that shot past.

Coming to a stop a half-step ahead of his father, Sasuke looked between him and the ANBU, brow furrowed.

"Did you have a run in with ANBU?" Sasuke asked warily. "The Hokage will take it up with them, if you tell her."

His father gave no response.

"Father?"

But Fugaku was fixated on the team, memorizing each member's movement and mask.

"Father?" He asked again, a touch louder. Had his father been injured during his mission? Immediately the marks on his father's head and neck flashed in Sasuke's memory. Did his father need medical attention?

Sasuke stepped closer to his father to try and examine the marks—perhaps he could ask Sakura to check on his father? That wouldn't be harassing her, it would be asking for help—when Fugaku's shoulders slumped, his tension melting away in defeat.

"Hn," he sighed, before he began walking once more, ignoring Sasuke's look of concern.

The strange behaviour repeated itself several more times as they walked through Konoha. The only trigger Sasuke could determine was the presence of an ANBU team streaking by each time it happened.

By the time they returned home, Itachi was cooking a simple meal and Fugaku was—dare Sasuke say it?—moping.

* * *

A Team Seven lunch gathered the members together for the first time since that awkward dinner, several weeks ago.

"Moping?" Asked Naruto, mouth full of ramen.

"Hn," agreed Sasuke. "It isn't like him at all. I think something happened on the mission." He turned to Sakura. "Did you hear anything from anyone in ANBU about my father being attacked?"

Sakura stared at her bowl, shaking her head.

"Hn," Sasuke turned back to his own meal. "He's not usually so unfocused."

"Maybe he had a fling?" Said Naruto, leering at Sasuke.

Sasuke punched him.

Sakura quietly choked down her noodles and left earlier than usual, citing the need to shop for groceries before having Ino over for supper that night.

* * *

Meanwhile at the Tower, the Hokage arched a brow at the Uchiha Clan head.

"A name?"

"Yes."

"For one of the Village's ANBU?"

"Yes."

"This much saké for a name?"

Fugaku remained silent, his arms folded in front of him as he sat in front of Tsunade's wide desk.

She tapped her finger on her bicep, frowning.

"You know our ANBU are anonymous for a reason. It protects everyone," she said, brows knitted together. "In deference to your position, before I object, may I ask the circumstances you need to know one of our operative's names?"

She watched him for a heartbeat before he looked away, a blush burning the tips of his ears.

Were her eyes deceiving her?

Was Fugaku… smitten?

"There was…while on the mission in Grass, we… became close."

Tsunade's eyes widened, her mouth going dry.

"How close?" she asked evenly.

Fugaku frowned at her. "That is private."

_Oh holy fucking shitsnacks on a cracker,_ realized Tsunade.

"How close?" repeated Tsunade, her tone rising. "Did you take advantage of one of my operatives through your influence as a clan head!" she shrieked, her fist crashing down on her desk.

"No," snapped Fugaku, though he swallowed. "It was… consensual." _Mostly_.

Tsunade's amber eyes burned with primal fire.

"Was my operative compromised, Fugaku?"

Fugaku glared at her.

"Is there a potential new Uchiha sibling incubating in one of my best ANBU medics?!" she shouted.

Something flickered behind Fugaku's dark eyes, but Tsunade was too furious to categorize it.

"A name," he said. "That is all I ask." He inhaled before letting it out, slowly. "She indicated she was… not concerned about the possibility of children."

"She better be damn sure of that," said Tsunade, crushing a pencil in her grip as she turned her back on Fugaku to stare out across the village. "Get out of my office."

Fugaku's back and shoulders straightened and tensed as he rose to his feet. "If not a name, then perhaps the active duty roster for the past week," said Fugaku. "I am willing to offer more in order to secure contact with her again."

Tsunade made a dismissive sound in her throat.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that. Get out and make sure your sons stop sniffing out my apprentice," added Tsunade. "She practically ran out of the gates to avoid them this week."

Fugaku blinked mid-bow. "The ANBU… made a similar request. I have already spoken to my sons."

"Good."

With that he left and Tsunade hollered for Shizune.

* * *

_At Ino's apartment that night_

"You did. I can tell you did. I just can't tell who you did."

Sakura ignored her best friend's speculation, instead passing her a bowl of salad. "Here. Your supper."

Ino's gaze sharpened. Whether at the salad or at Sakura was anyone's guess.

"Was it any good?"

Sakura's forest-green eyes studied the ceiling for answers.

"It didn't happen."

"Mmmm-hmmmm," murmured Ino, staring at Sakura as she munched on her lettuce.

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Then perhaps you will tell the Hokage," said a voice from behind them.

Sakura turned around to spy Kakashi on Ino's windowsill. "Yo!" he lifted a hand in greeting.

"What do you mean?"

Sakura sighed at how eager Ino sounded.

"Er, Sakura, you may want to hurry. Tsunade-sama was quite… ruffled. She also mentioned something about Uchihas." He scratched the back of his head. "And a recent mission." His cheeks above his mask tinged pink. "And making sure you're up to date on your kunoichi inoculations…" He coughed. "And something about you maybe needing to confess something or other about a certain clan head."

Ino gaped at Sakura. Then her eyes took on an unholy gleam.

For her part, Sakura glared at Kakashi. There had been no reason to state all that in front of Ino. None. None except for disturbing what little peace she had in life. And was about to lose. Apparently.

"I'll be right there," she ground out between her teeth.

"I am to escort you promptly," he said.

"Can I come, too?" begged Ino.

"No!"

* * *

In their shared 'get-along' chakra shackles, Sasuke and Itachi looked to the rooftops from where they shopped for the ingredients for their supper. Their father's punishment involved them being unable to spend time apart when they were off-duty. It worked to effectively nullify their attempts to woo Sakura, too, by preventing them from having any privacy. They searched for the familiar chakra signature and saw Sakura and Kakashi racing towards the Tower like the hounds of Hell licked their heels.

Sasuke's brow pinched together.

"Is something the matter?" asked Itachi, looking at him. "I don't recall her needing to reach the Hokage with such haste before."

Sasuke shook his head. "And Kakashi is with her, too."

Without a word they started for the Tower.

* * *

"Does he know it was you?"

"No."

"I said, does he know it was you!"

"No, Shishou!"

Itachi and Sasuke stood outside the Hokage's office, and Sasuke's eyes flinched at the sound of crashing coming from within.

"Did you take precautions?"

"Of course I did!"

Itachi and Sasuke turned to each other; their Sharingans already activated.

"Not just to protect your identity!"

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Do I need to tell you how stupid it was for this to happen with a Clan head? My own apprentice!"

"Hyuuga, Yamanaka, Nara," recited Sasuke tonelessly.

"You're barely out of the clutches of the Uchiha, and then you do this?" screamed Tsunade.

"Aburame, Inuzuka, Akimichi, Uchiha," added Itachi after a moment.

Sasuke shook his head. "It couldn't have been Father. was outside the village on a mission and we were both... unavailable," he said. Itachi nodded.

"I can't believe I have to tell you this, but you need to keep your guard up. He's looking for you."

"But—"

"Congratulations. Don't let yourself be seen in armour for a few days," advised Tsunade. "Dismissed."

"Yes, Shishou."

When Sakura let herself out of the Hokage's office, the hallway was empty.

* * *

Sakura was almost home when she felt a familiar presence behind her.

Her eyes wide, she turned to find Uchiha Fugaku waiting for her by her front step.

Panic flooded her, and… well, she knew what else did, too, and fought to control her blush.

"Good evening. How can I help you?" she asked, smiling.

"I need your assistance," he said. "You are a medic. From Itachi's ANBU team, correct?"

"Yes." _Oh no._

"Can you tell me if medics can erase marks, wounds, from a person's body?"

She furrowed her brow. "Some blemishes, yes. For example, some wounds. Normally a medic would focus on the wound and let the blemish heal itself, however. To save chakra."

He nodded.

"Do you know of any medics who were stationed outside Konoha during the last week?"

Sakura froze.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss such things because of my position in the Tower." She bowed. "I apologize."

To her surprise his proud shoulders sagged and the corners of his eyes fell.

"Ah. Of course. I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position."

_Not here on the porch, anyway,_ Sakura mused and pressed her lips firmly shut.

"If there isn't anything else, I need to finish up some work at home," lied Sakura apologetically.

"No, nothing else," he sighed.

Sakura nodded and bowed neatly, but he had already turned to leave.

She bit her lip as she noted his defeated pace.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: More coming later this week! (And happy birthday, Sakura!)


	6. Open bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything revolves around food.

**Chapter 6**

Back home from his deskwork for the day, Itachi observed his father as he stared at the rooftops across the compound. Occasionally an Uchiha ANBU would spring across the parapet, only to duck down beside their own home. His father's shoulders stiffened and he became more alert at each occurrence before slumping once more as the individual special-op would drop out of sight.

"Do you miss serving as a shinobi?" Asked Itachi, approaching his father.

"Hn," murmured Fugaku, distracted.

Was it the social aspect his father missed, perhaps? Was he lonely? His recent mission, had it evoked a sense of nostalgia, or longing for his past service?

"There is a gathering of Konoha shinobi, including ANBU, tomorrow evening," ventured Itachi as he observed his father.

And there it was; the spark was back in his father's dark gaze, his brows lifting as he looked up at his son.

"Where?"

* * *

Sasuke and Itachi, in their get-along shackles, meandered outside their home early the next morning; they were roused by the sound of intense training.

"Father? Is something the matter?" Asked Itachi.

Grunting and huffing with exertion, Fugaku shook his head at his sons before setting down the logs he had been dead lifting.

"Just stretching. Limbering up," he said off-hand, swinging his arms back and forth across his body.

"At four thirty in the morning?" Asked Sasuke, nonplussed.

"Early bird gets the worm, son," said Fugaku, dropping down with his arms in front of him to squat. "And one, and two, and three…"

Without another word, Sasuke and Itachi retreated back into their home to confer.

"I think Sakura needs to examine his head for a brain injury," mumbled Sasuke.

"Hn," Itachi nodded, his brows furrowed.

"If he starts wearing green tights, we're calling in the Elders. I don't know what has gotten into him lately," said Sasuke with a yawn. "It's like he's trying to… nah…"

With a shake of his head, he waved his wrist beside his bedroom door frame, which released the get-along shackles.

"Hn?" Itachi watched his brother, trying to discern what he'd meant with his last statement.

"Nothing, lost youth," said Sasuke. "See you later."

A bad feeling curling in his stomach, Itachi turned to his own room and fell into a restless semi-sleep, too.

* * *

(That evening, at _The Rusty Kunai Bar and Tavern_ )

Their shackles polished and cleaned, their clan uniforms freshly pressed, Itachi and Sasuke drew to a halt at the sign propped up beside the entrance to their destination.

" _ANBU Social Mixer — proudly sponsored by the Uchiha clan"_

Unease wriggled closer and reared its ugly head in the brothers' stomachs.

"Did…Dad mention anything to you..." Sasuke broached, but Itachi shook his head once.

"No," he said. He looked at the entrance and braced himself. "Come," he instructed Sasuke.

It was worse inside.

Their father was being… _gregarious_.

Sasuke cringed at hearing his father laugh from across the room; as stoic as ever, Itachi observed the assembled shinobi, some with their masks hanging at their sides, most holding alcoholic drinks. He glanced to the side, his eyes narrowing at the " _OPEN BAR! Courtesy of the Uchiha clan"_ sign that someone had posted with a rusted kunai against the nearest support beam.

"Dafuq," Sasuke muttered under his breath, and Itachi had to agree, for once.

… and then he overheard his father's conversation, and his stomach sank down to his feet.

"So, any good medics on your ANBU teams these days? No? Is there anyone here who does have a good medic on their team? Young, petite? Really? No that's it, go drink whatever, good job. If you'll excuse me—"

In awkward and uncomfortable disbelief, Itachi and Sasuke observed their father patting the ANBU on their backs before turning to another group.

"Are you enjoying yourselves? Yes? Been on any recent diplomatic missions? Hn?"

"He's trying to socialize!" Hissed Sasuke under his breath, aghast.

Itachi was speechless as he heard their father next ask, "Oh, where do the ANBU usually go, ah, 'clubbing'? In my day…"

Shaking his head in mute horror, Sasuke couldn't tear his eyes away from his father.

Itachi, meanwhile, had narrowed his eyes.

"He's trying to find someone to distract us from Sakura," he deduced, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Oh thank kami," wheezed Sasuke, his hand clutching at his chest, heedless of the wrinkles it cast in his clan shirt.

"Hn," sighed Itachi, dragging Sasuke along with the shackles to the bar. "We may as well observe the situation."

"You mean dissuade the ANBU corps from drinking away the Clan's reserve funds?"

"Precisely."

Sasuke smirked as Itachi glared at a group of overly entitled ANBU who wandered back to the bar for their second round. They backed away at the Uchiha's steady disapproval.

"We're lucky it's only ANBU," said Sasuke, joining his brother. "If it had been known at the Tower that there was an open bar, the first person to line up would have been—"

"You mean I'm not the only one you're plying with alcohol, Fugaku?" Tsunade called , joining the fray from the main doors.

"Shit!" Sasuke startled in his chair. He leapt over the bar, only for the get-along shackles to yank him back.

"Hn?" Asked Itachi, looking around.

"The bar is closed!" Shouted Sasuke, putting away any glasses he saw and sending a clone to tear down the 'open bar' sign. "Closed! Already had last call! Everybody go home now!"

But a great cheer had risen at the Hokage's arrival, and Sasuke's voice was drowned out. He paled as she started for the bar.

"If you want to have any inheritance left at all, you WILL help me close this bar!" He snapped at his older brother, yanking on their shackles.

Finally clueing in, Itachi's eyes widened as he faced the Hokage.

Tsunade smirked at him.

"I hear there's an open bar," she said. From inside her robes, she brought out a stein she'd been saving for a special occasion. It read, 'World's Best Hokage' along the side. "Fill 'er up, Uchiha, and keep 'em coming. That's an order."

Itachi swallowed.

* * *

Itachi wasn't surprised when less than a day later the Elders sent an emissary to his ANBU office.

"Dafuq is going on with your father, Itachi?"

It was a real struggle to not let his brows shoot up to his hairline at the crotchety Elder's frank language.

"He is too old to be having a mid-life crisis," the Elder continued.

"Perhaps nostalgia with relation to serving again—"

The wizened little troll waved his hand at Itachi's well-intentioned misdirection.

"No, he's losing his marbles." The man looked at Itachi with hunger. "Now we need to look to the future." He plunked down a heavy scented bag on Itachi's desk. "Put these herbs in your tea every morning," he said, giving Itachi the stink eye. "And whatever semi-respectable kunoichi you can get a bun in the oven with is acceptable. Seriously. We're ignoring all the usual rules because we need to dump your dad and you're next in line. We don't even care if she has pink hair at the moment, so long as you—"

Itachi grabbed the herbs. "Done."

* * *

Sasuke's eyes narrowed on his brother the next morning as he made his tea with a new brew.

His brother never changed his breakfast routine at home.

Ever.

The next morning, he stole some of Itachi's herbs for his own use. After a quick test (and moment of privacy), he realized what had happened.

The day after, he swapped out Itachi's herbs for his own. He had an industrial sized supply, might as well.

And by the fourth day, Itachi had no idea what was happening to his once mighty junk. First it wouldn't sit down, now it wouldn't stand up. It wouldn't even acknowledge it was morning. How was he supposed to woo Sakura if he couldn't even hold an…

Wait.

That was it!

With a spring in his step, Itachi nearly whistled as he left home on the fifth day on his way to Konoha General to seek professional assistance for (and opinion on) his misbehaving package, stopping to collect flowers on the way.

Sasuke wanted to scream; he did, actually, when he heard about his father's latest antics.

(After somehow mysteriously suffering a moderately severe injury just outside ANBU HQ: "Oh, no need to reach out to the hospital," Fugaku assured the sentries who appeared at his side to offer aid. "But if you happen to have a medic available. Female. Approximately five foot four, slight, strong opinions, fantastic chakra control, who coincidentally hasn't slept with my whore son…" The ANBU shook their head, apologetic. "Sorry, Uchiha-sama. We could have found someone but that last one nixed it." Fugaku's eyes narrowed and his fist tightened, "Kami, Sasuke!")

* * *

"Another team meal?" asked Sakura a few days later as she, Naruto and Sasuke (and Itachi) ate ramen at Ichiraku's.

"Yeah. Dad's been out of sorts recently," admitted Sasuke. With his unshackled hand he poked at his noodles with his chopsticks. "He enjoyed himself when everyone was over."

"What's wrong with your dad now?" asked Naruto.

"He's… moody," said Itachi, joining in to the conversation.

Sakura pressed her lips together, staring unseeing at her ramen.

"He vacillates between hyper-driven and focused, and despair, staring at nothing," explained Itachi.

"It's creepy," said Sasuke.

"What is he focused on?"

"He won't tell us," said Sasuke. "But Shisui asked around some of the Elders, and they said it has to do with a mission Dad was on recently. Something about him acting like he used to when he was young."

Itachi nodded. "We believe he met someone and feels conflicted about his intentions." He kept his suspicions about his father's search for a replacement for Sakura to himself and Sasuke.

Sasuke shrugged. "Or that he has a head injury."

"Well, I mean, it's been a few years since your mom passed away. No offence, but I think it's okay that he consider dating. Then again, it's your creepy Dad, so, ew."

"Thank you, dumbass," said Sasuke, turning back to his ramen.

"Well, how about tonight?" asked Naruto, perking up. "You're free, right Sakura? No more sudden, last minute mystery missions?"

"Hm? No," said Sakura, shaking her head.

"Excellent! We'll meet up at Sasuke's tonight for another team dinner!"

She could have cursed her luck.

* * *

Fugaku watched his sons and their friends pack into the kitchen again, this time with far less competition.

He sighed and turned away. It reminded him of how far he was from his goal of reuniting with his refused-to-be-a-one-night-stand. How was he supposed to find his ANBU?

The doorbell rang and he padded off to answer it, unsure if he wanted to stay that night with all the young folk clustered around. He should be out searching. Or bribing. Or blackmailing the black ops into giving him the recent ANBU mission roster. He couldn't let the trail get cold.

Perhaps his sons would know something? Perhaps one of their friends had mentioned a recent mission they took with a handsome clan head?

He opened the door, nodding at a rather stiff Hatake Kakashi. "... yo, Uchiha-sama," he greeted mechanically. "Is everyone inside?"

"Hn, kitchen," answered Fugaku. Wait. Kakashi was still active in ANBU from time to time. "A moment of your time, Hatake."

Kakashi began to sweat beneath the clan leader's steady gaze. "Ah-ha-ha?"

"Do you know of any recent ANBU messenger missions where a medic was sent out to accompany a jounin?" he asked.

Kakashi's sweat seeped through his hitai-ate, stinging his eyes, covered and uncovered. "Oh, I'm not the person to ask about that. My memory is terrible!" he said with a flippant gesture.

"You know over a thousand jutsu," said Fugaku.

"Oh, jutsu! Jutsu's different…"

Fugaku stared him down.

Kakashi lifted his shrimp ring. "I better get this ring to Sakura! I mean… to the fridge. In the kitchen. Where Sakura is… _excuseme,_ " he mumbled, mincing to the kitchen.

Brows furrowed in his lined face, Fugaku wondered again how on Earth his son had learned anything from such a teacher.

Hn.

Shaking his head, Fugaku joined everyone just as they were taking their seats.

"Great job, Team!" cheered Naruto as everyone set their platters down.

Fugaku had to admit, it was a lovely spread. No pavlova this time, though. He frowned.

He looked at his sons who sat side by side; at least they were behaving this time. Because of the re-arranged seating, Sakura now sat beside him. Ah well. That would be fine. She was a pleasant conversationalist. Kakashi sat to her side, and Naruto was at the other end of the table.

They served themselves and their chitchat began.

"How was your mission, Sakura? Did you get banged up?" asked Naruto.

In the middle of reaching for the edamame, Sakura's wrist jerked and sent a spoonful of the green beans flying across the room. "Excuse me?" she asked, voice high and thready.

"Your mission. Was it rough?"

Sweat beaded on her temples. "It was fine. Everything was fine."

Sasuke eyed her oddly. "Sakura," he said, nodding at her hand. She had bent the metal serving spoon in half.

"Oh. Sorry," she said, blushing.

Naruto shook his head before turning next to Fugaku. "How about you, Uchiha-san? How was your mission? It's been a while. Did you have a hard time keeping it up?"

Fugaku's Sharingan pulsed behind his pupils, begging to be put to good use.

"No," he bit out.

"Oh. Okay," said Naruto, looking around the table. "Uh, anybody else?..."

"Could you pass the bread please?" asked Sakura to Kakashi. The older nin gave her a sympathetic look and handed her the platter. "Thank you."

Fugaku eyed her plate. She was barely eating. "You need to eat more than that," he said, and reached for the meat dishes. "Have some roast."

"Oh, that's too much, I couldn't possibly," she said, raising her hand.

"Nonsense," argued Fugaku. "You're in ANBU. You need to maintain your strength for your missions. Overexerting yourself is dangerous if you don't eat properly," he said, leaning over her to slice and serve her the meat.

"Oh, I often take soldier pills to balance my nutrition,—" she said, and shook her long hair from her face; it tickled his arms, petal soft and smelling of…

His eyes widened. And then two things happened:

First, he felt all the blood drain from his face.

"—Uchiha-san," she finished.

Second, it all pooled south of the border in a record-breaking erection not even remotely concealed by his clan coat and trousers.

 _Sweet kami, I fucked Sakura, the Hokage's apprentice,_ he thought, his neural pathways short-circuiting.

And then, as the fog cleared and Sakura's eyes widened in return as she understood what he'd come to realize, he wondered when he could next do it again.

… if the way her hand gripping, then squeezing his upper thigh under the table was any indication, there was, perhaps, room to hope.

* * *

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Your responses to this fic continue to amaze me and make me feel loved. Thank you! I am setting time aside this weekend to reply to your lovely reviews for the last several chapters. Thank you so much, and happy reading, darlings!


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